


Ocean Deep

by anuschkaLova



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, F/M, Falling In Love, Gay, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Harry Syles - Freeform, Harry's POV, Hawaii, London, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, Love Triangles, M/M, Plot Twists, Romance, Secrets, Self-Discovery, Top Louis Tomlinson, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anuschkaLova/pseuds/anuschkaLova
Summary: Harry has it all — good looks, rich parents and a bright future ahead.But beneath the glorious surface, he's drowning, day by day.Meeting Louis seemed Harry's rescue, his safe-haven. But who'd have thought that those ocean eyes would drag him even deeper into the darkness...
Relationships: Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!  
> Thank you so much for reading.  
> This is going to be a story with many, many chapters... and with a big plot twist. ;-)  
> I will be trying to update regularly, and it would mean so much if you'd leave a comment!
> 
> Have a lovely day! ♡
> 
> P.S.: English is not my mother tongue, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Harry hated goodbyes.

He always did.

When he was nine years old, his school class did a weekend trip to Glasgow, and while everyone was overly excited to see something new despite Big Ben and the Buckingham Palace, Harry couldn't even smile.  
Heck, he was the opposite of happy. While they've waited for the bus to pick them up, most kids jumping up and down like bouncy balls, Harry's arms were tightly wrapped around his mother's legs. Just the thought of being separated from her brought tears to his eyes, because what was a nine-year-old boy supposed to do without his mother?  
She was his protector, comforter and listener.  
Saying goodbye felt like leaving her for good and Harry wasn't ready to take a step towards independence, nor the double-decker bus.

Therefore, he cried most of the time during the trip and therefore, his class mates made fun of him during those times. Needless to say, Harry didn't enjoy Glasgow.

Another time, seven years later and a few days after the GCSE exams in summer, Harry's best friend had to move away.  
It was quite shocking as the decision kind of happened overnight. He remembered playing this new video game at Liam's house, laughing at some stupid jokes and eating chips that Harry had sneaked in (because Liam's mum was super strict about her son's diet).  
But the next day, when Liam came over to hang out, the carefree spirit from last night was completely gone. 

Instead, his brown eyes seemed empty, missing that typical cheeky sparkle and Harry, who found himself staring into those two black holes that absorbed a piece of his own soul, felt numb and sick as Liam told him about the move. 

At first, he was speechless, frozen in place while his brain tried to process the information, but the words made no sense, so Harry fired Liam with questions:

„When?" „In two weeks."

„Why?" „My father got promoted."

„Where?" „Leeds."

„Is this a joke?" „No."

Liam always had a weird humor, a mixture of bad puns and dark twists which he only shared with his closest friends. Maybe he was just messing with Harry. Maybe his mother found out about the chips and scolded Liam and Liam, sick bastard that he was, tried to teach him a lesson now.  
But he wasn't joking.

Two weeks later, a gigantic white moving truck parked in front of Liam's house. It perfectly matched the white facade with its classic stucco and window frames; a modern yet historical building that reflected the fine art of English architecture: pillar-porched entrance and grande terrace. Notting Hill owned the most impressive residences in London.

Harry watched as the men entered and exited the beautiful house, carrying familiar furnitures, rolled up carpets and box after box - each filled with unforgettable memories.  
It felt like robbery.  
When they were finished loading the stuff into the truck, Liam walked up to him; eyes glued to the ground, hands buried in his grey sweatpants. The atmosphere was tense and after the two boys had finally found the courage to raise their heads and lock gazes, they crumbled.

The hug was tight and desperate.  
Harry's grip around Liam was firm, a bit too firm, because he joked about not being able to breathe, but Harry was afraid.

He was afraid that once he'd let go, he would lose his best friend forever, lose his support in life. One might think he was a little overdramatic, Leeds was just a four-hour car ride away, but going from _seeing each other every day_ to only _twice a month_ was too much to handle.

It wasn't the end of the world, however, it cut Harry's world in half for sure.

They exchanged promises, shared another hug and said their goodbyes. Liam smiled weakly and waved before he got into his parents' car. The black vehicle pulled to the road, followed by the moving truck, leaving the house and city behind.  
And as Harry stood there, wondering if six years of friendship was stronger than a distance of 208 miles, he noticed that the movers had also taken something from _him_. Somewhere, between all these boxes and antiques, hidden beneath rare paintings and tea sets, was a part of Harry. A part he knew he could never replace.

So, yeah. Harry hated goodbyes.  
The awkward silence, the salty tears, the unspoken words.  
He hated everything about it.

This time, it was different.

As he made his way through the crowded hall of Heathrow airport, backpack over one shoulder and dragging a huge suitcase beside him, Harry heard his sister's muffled sobs and pondered what was heavier: the luggage or the guilt.

He felt a sudden tightness in his chest when they arrived at the check in. Not sure what to say, Harry fumbled with the ticket and passport in his hand.  
Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought to be standing here, travelling on his own and making his sister cry. He knew, better than anyone on this planet, how much goodbyes sucked. And being the one now who was responsible for this hated _goodbye-moment_ by making a decision, was almost fucking irony.

„Gemma", Harry said softly, cupping her cheek with his hand. Her skin was warm and slightly flushed. He used his thumb to wipe the tears away, offering a small smile. 

His sister nodded and dried her face with her sleeve.

„I'm sorry. It's just... I'm going to miss you", Gemma mumbled and Harry pressed his lips into a thin line. He squeezed her shoulder.

„It's for the best."

Again, she nodded at her brother's words.

„Just take care, okay? And don't forget to text me after you've landed."  
Harry playfully rolled his eyes.

„Yes, mother", he sighed, earning a light fist bump against his upper arm, but he caught his sister's smile.

„Hey! I'm just worried."

„I know. But I'm 25 years old, believe it or not", he assured.

„Yeah. And believe it or not, but you've never travelled on your own in those 25 years", Gemma shot back and _ouch_ , it hurt. She just stated a fact and even though Harry preferred to joke around and be sarcastic rather than sad and serious, her words left a bitter aftertaste.

„Anyway, where are you heading first?", Liam asked as he studied the departure screen above their heads.  
Yes, Liam was back and Harry was eternally grateful for that.

His family moved back to London a few years ago, after living for four years in Leeds, Liam returned shortly before Harry's 20th birthday and to be honest, having his best friend back, even though he seemed changed, was the best gift Harry could have asked for.

„Los Angeles", Harry said, looking for his flight on the screen. He had one hour until boarding.  
It was then that he realized that the car ride to the airport had been quiet. They were just staring out of the windows, pretending to be interested in the dull landscape to avoid any conversation, because Harry mainly avoided it.  
He could literally sense the raging storms inside their heads, caused by millions and millions of questions and it made him nervous. In the end, they must have also sensed his uneasiness, so the ride had thankfully remained silent, except of the car radio.

Liam raised both eyebrows and whistled.  
„Starting off with big style, Mr. Styles", he commented and Harry shook his head, smirking.

„Shut up, Mr. _Payne-in-the-ass_."

A few seconds passed before the three of them burst into laughter, attracting anyone's attention that was close enough.

Harry almost stumbled over his backpack on the floor, igniting another uncontrollable outburst of laughter and giggles. They were definitely childish, but right know, that's all Harry needed to forget his doubts and fear. The rush of endorphins made him almost forget that his parents weren't there. Almost.

„Okay, okay. I think we should stop. The security guards are already keeping an eye on us", Liam chuckled and Harry pursed his lips.

If anything, they were the perfect example of poshness.  
Gemma wore black skinny jeans, a white blouse and a checkered blazer while carrying a Chanel bag over her shoulder. Liam, funny enough, matched Gemma with his checkered dress pants that he combined with a black turtleneck. His golden watch and shiny shoes were hard evidence for his wealthy family and could be easily interpreted as bragging, but on second view, his warm features and the crinkles around his big doe eyes overshadowed any luxurious possession.

Liam Payne was at least the most humbled man on earth, rich or not. He didn't judge a book by its cover, instead, Liam always read the pages, line after line, chapter after chapter to fully understand a person's story. His patience and empathy were clearly his strong suit.

Harry wished for more people like him.

Imagine living in a world where judgment didn't exist, where everyone could do whatever they wanted, free of social boundaries and able to be their true selves. Wouldn't that be fucking wonderful?  
Today, Harry Styles was ready to get a taste of such a life. After 25 years of restriction, hiding and suppressing, he was eager to spread his wings and take a risk.

He ran a hand through his short chestnut curls, readjusting his black coat while eyeing the line at the check in. It was time, and Gemma noticed. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around her brother, rocking lightly from side to side.  
Then, she pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and stepped back, making room for Liam to hug Harry.

„I'm always here for you, H. Whenever you're ready to talk about this, I'll be listening", Liam whispered close to his ear so that no one else could hear him. Harry intensified his grip in response, closing his eyes as he savored the feeling of security.

„Thank you."

Letting go of each other, Harry grabbed his luggage and positioned himself one last time in front of the two most important people in his life. His sight started to become blurry.

„Don't get into trouble, sis", Harry warned while grinning, but his lower lip twitched.

„Dito", Gemma replied, mirroring his expression. Harry nodded.

„Goodbye, mate", Liam said and it stung Harry's heart. The feared word has been spoken and there was no going back. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his composure and straightened his back.

„Goodbye."  
One last look, one last smile and Harry turned around to join the line. His eyes burnt. No going back. _You did the right thing_ , he told himself mentally, over and over, while feeling his chest tighten with every step he took towards the counter. And then, Harry knew the answer: it was guilt that weighed more.

__

After registering his baggage and passing security, Harry was on the way to his gate. He made a quick stop at a store to buy a sandwich and some water, and considered getting a neck pillow. Because for some reason, Harry had just realized that he had an 11-hour long flight ahead of him. So he bought one.

Luckily, his gate wasn't far away and Harry decided to go to the bathroom. He washed his face, the cold water refreshing and tingling on his heated skin. Glimpsing at his reflection, Harry flinched at his red, swollen eyes.  
He'd been crying, yes, but he had no idea that he looked this miserable. No wonder the woman at the checkout had smiled at him sadly.

It was the same sad smile that Gemma had when he refused to justify his decision back at their home.  
He wasn't ready to tell her the truth and she accepted it, but Harry saw the hurt in her eyes. The pain he caused, because he didn't trust his own sister, his flesh and blood, the one who had been always by his side, who always had his back.

She looked so devastated and it broke Harry's heart. Even at the airport, she didn't push him and put on this brave face, but inside, Harry knew the uncertainty was eating her alive.  
However, he couldn't tell her.  
Not yet.

And Liam.

He was truly blessed to have an amazing friend like Liam, but something seemed off.

Since he'd returned from Leeds, Harry noticed that in a weird way, Liam wasn't _and_ was himself at the same time.

He was strangely incomplete and Harry wasn't able to find the missing puzzle pieces. Of course, Liam grew up, he became more grounded - a normal adult, were it not for his unexplained mood swings.

In one moment, he'd asked Harry via text message to watch the moon with him in Hampstead Heath Park, where they used to play football as kids and sunbath on the freshly mowed grass, just to deny this request in the next moment when Harry brought it up.

Actually, it wasn't the _let's-watch-the-moon-thing_ that kept Harry up most nights, but the angry glint in Liam's eyes, flickering flames devouring the kindness, turning warm wood into a wildfire as he pushed off the topic.

The unsettling part was, that this incident didn't remain a one-time-deal.  
So Harry decided to give his friend some time, but the truth was: he was a coward. Too scared to confront Liam and risking a fight, Harry said nothing. He should, right? He knew he should and he would have done it if he wasn't fucking drowning in his own pool of struggles.

So he made another decision. Once Harry would be back home, he was determined to come clean: with Liam, Gemma and his parents.

He just needed some time.

Pressing the reset button.

Starting over.

Yes.

_> >Ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention, please. American Airlines Flight 137 for Los Angeles is now boarding at Gate 11. Boarding for business class...<<_

Harry briefly checked his phone at the announcement. No new messages.

He left the bathroom and walked to his gate where passengers were already boarding the plane. For the first time ever, Harry's mind blamed him for his selfishness while his heart applauded him.  
Leaving everything and everyone behind in order to take care of himself was normally considered selfish by Harry, but this time, it was appropriated. So his self-doubt could go fuck itself.

Taking his seat by the window, he killed the time until take-off by reading the safety card. His heart was constantly beating fast, not because of fear - but of pure excitement.

 _It was happening_.

The plane slowly taxied to the runway and Harry's heart was nearly exploding at the sound of the roaring engines.  
He was pressed into his seat, the aircraft shaking and hissing while a boost of adrenaline rushed through his veins. Thousand butterflies were rummaging in his stomach, along with popping firecrackers, hurricanes and clashing dizzyingly high waves - thrilled, tensed, happy, ecstatic, nervous: Harry was overwhelmed by his emotions.

The shaking stopped. He was in the air. _He did it._

Looking out, the shrinking city of London beneath him, Harry suddenly realized why he used to enjoy laying in the park. He wasn't watching the clouds, but the birds.

Beautiful creatures, gliding effortlessly in the air, with wings spread wide. High and free.  
A smile crept across his face, framed with deep dimples as a modest thought crossed his mind.

Maybe, just maybe, Harry was one of them. With invisible wings called _hopes_ and _dreams_. And if he believed in them, if he believed in himself, just a little, those wings could fly him higher than any bird in the sky.

Harry had to try. He had a whole year to discover the world and find his freedom.

One year to start breathing again, above the surface.  
He glanced at the tiny city one last time before he leaned back, putting on his headphones to play _Free Fallin'_ by John Mayer and as the calm melody filled his ears, Harry closed his eyes. Smile never leaving his lips.

_Goodbye, London._


	2. I

Squirming on the hotel bed, Harry's breathless moans filled the room as the stranger, whose bed this was, gave him the best blowjob ever.

Although, he wasn't actually a stranger. Harry knew his name after all, which started with the letter ‚D'. _Was it Daniel? Dustin? Or even Dennis?_

Fuck it, Harry thought and bucked his hips, the wet warmth of the stranger's mouth driving him crazy.  
A mixture of three cocktails and intoxicating hormones kept the 26 year-old Brit from thinking straight. God, he was so hard that he almost forgot his own name!

„You good?" Suddenly, the man let go and looked up, causing Harry to whimper at the missing lips around his dick.

„What?"

„I can stop if you want me to", he assured and within a second, Harry was back in his right mind. He knitted his brows and stared into the striking blue eyes of his opponent, which were as crystal-clear as the water at Hawaii's beaches.

„I... no. Why?", Harry stuttered. Did he make an impression of not enjoying it?  
However, small wrinkles framed the edges of those ocean-eyes when the young man smiled, or more precisely - smirked.

„I mean... in case it's been a while and it all gets too much, I can stop", he explained gently and something went ‚click' inside Harry's head:  
He didn't make an impression of _not_ enjoying it, but to enjoy it way _too much_. His face felt like burning.

To be honest, Harry has already lost his virginity a long time ago. Back then, a few days after his 17th birthday, he had sex with a girl named Claire. She was his seat mate at school and Harry's girlfriend for five months, before she broke up with him. 

Recalling those memories, a sinking feeling filled his body, very much like one feels when beginning the drop down of a roller coaster. His uneasiness didn't go unnoticed.

„Hey", the stranger said, fingertips lightly brushing over Harry's hipbones. „No reason to be scared, lad. I won't judge you."

The sincerity was evident in his eyes and Harry nodded slowly, biting his lower lip. He ran a hand through his shoulder-lengths hair to get rid of any strands in his face.

„You know, I've had sex before... with women."

Silence. The words lingered in the tick summer air for a while.

„And men?"

Harry shook his head.

„Not even kissing?"

Again, he shook his head and Harry watched as the other man raised both eyebrows. He seemed taken aback and Harry couldn't blame him - after all, Harry didn't seem unexperienced a few hours ago...

When their gazes locked for the first time this late afternoon, Harry turned instantly dazed, as if struck by lightning.

After a long day at Gray's beach as well as exploring Honolulu's small shops and restaurants, Harry entered the lobby of his hotel. He was exhausted, skin sweaty and hot. So he quickly passed the reception, a nice cold shower in mind, when he mindlessly glimpsed at the bar and immediately froze in place.

There he was - sitting on one of the red leather bar stools while holding a beer in his hand - the most beautiful man Harry has ever laid eyes on.  
Maybe he had a sunstroke, or even a real stroke, because Harry couldn't remember walking over to the semi-crowded bar.

All of a sudden, he found himself right next to the stranger; feet dangling a few inches above the floor as he took a seat on the tall stool.  
He ordered a cocktail and discreetly observed the stranger who was luckily distracted by the football match on the bar's TV.  
He wore a pair of tight, black jeans along with a loose grey tank top. Harry couldn't help but trace the soft, yet defined outlines of the man's arm with his eyes.  
He imagined caressing him, running his hands through the fluffy quiff and pulling at the slightly longer strands of hair by his neck.

When the bar-keeper came back to serve his drink, Harry cleared his throat, trying to ignore his boner. _Great._

That's when the stranger turned his head and spotted the new company by his side. Harry didn't know why, but his heart skipped a beat as those blue eyes roamed over his body.

„Cheers", the stranger said in a thick British accent, raising his beer a little. Harry nodded and mimicked the gesture, taking a sip of his exotic cocktail.

„London?", Harry asked.

„Donny", the man answered. Harry frowned, which drew a smirk on his thin lips

„Doncaster, Yorkshire", he explained, chuckling. „London?"

„Yeah", Harry nodded, fumbling with the many rings on his fingers before he held out one of his tanned hands.

„I'm Harry. Nice to meet someone from homeland." For a moment, Harry wondered if he acted too forceful, because the other lad just blankly looked down at his offering hand

„David", he finally replied and shook Harry's hand. _Ah, right. David it was._  
From there, the afternoon took its course.

They were drinking and talking, watching occasionally the football game and Harry grinned at David's swearing whenever a player missed a goal - mainly because his Yorkshire slang came through.

„For fuck's sake! I'll fucking _bray_ you if you miss one more time, mate", David rambled, holding his third beer. Harry had also reached his third round of cocktails.

„ _Bray_?", he snorted, earning a lecturing side-eye from David.

Despite knowing each other for roughly two hours, both men had already bonded. Maybe it was due to their shared nationality, the English blood that ran through their veins. Or maybe the extraordinary encounter of two Brits meeting at a bar in Hawaii instead of London's busy underground.

Maybe.

And maybe you could call it even fate. However, Harry didn't care much since all that mattered was David's shoulder pressed against his own.

„Yeah, bray. It means to punch someone", he stated and Harry lost it. God-knows-what caused his outburst, but Harry laughed so hard that he almost pissed his pants.  
David glared at him, leaning closer.

„Hey, shut up or I'll bray you", the football-enthusiast threatened, but in the end he gave in and couldn't contain his own laughter. David's hot breath tingled on Harry's flushed skin as he waited for the man to pull himself together after a while.

„Watch your tongue, mate."

Still smiling though, Harry suddenly felt the urge to touch David's stubbled cheeks. He wanted to kiss his pretty lips, wanted to feel those long eyelashes brushing against his skin as they did so. He wanted to suck his dick so badly and most importantly - he wanted to get fucked by David.

Without thinking twice, Harry grabbed David's thigh, so dominant and close to his crotch that there was no misunderstanding.  
Blame the alcohol in Harry's system or the 7223 miles that separated him from his restricting life in London - either way, he'd found some courage.

Of course, Harry was still utterly nervous for the other man's reaction, gigantic waves of anxiety filling his chest.  
_Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._ His heart was a ticking bomb - about to explode. The longer David just stared at him, mouth slightly opened (possibly from shock), the louder Harry's heart pounded.

Therefore, it came as a surprise when David closed his mouth to form a smirk. Bending forward, Harry saw his dilated pupils, swallowing his blue oceans.

„What do you want?", he asked lowly and Harry shuddered. Making sure that no one was eavesdropping them, Harry carefully removed his hand, just to accidentally brush the man's crotch. Now it was David who shuddered.

„ _You_." It was merely a whisper, oozing with longing and need, quiet and shy, but David heard it.

He paid for both their drinks, leaving a generous tip - all while keeping his darkened eyes on Harry. He then left, hands in pockets as he strolled through the lobby towards the lifts, glancing over his shoulder, and Harry stood up.

Was it really happening? Was he really going to have a one-night-stand with a stranger? But then again, it wouldn't be his first time.

 _It's your first time with a man, idiot,_ Harry's inner voice reminded him and damn it if he'd missed this opportunity.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being pressed against the lift's wall.

David, despite his lean physique (and height of 5'8", Harry was 5'10"), turned out to be surprisingly strong. His firm grip kept Harry's wrists above his head, allowing their chests to connect and when David's lips attacked his neck, Harry arched his back so hard that his shoulder blades ached against the hard metal wall. But he didn't care.

Mind clouded and head dizzy, Harry's senses were only focused on David: his heat, his scent, his touches. Everything was so intoxicating and _fuck_ , he wanted more.

Once out of the lift; three floors up and breathing heavily as if they'd ran up the stairs; both men stumbled through the corridors, continuing their make-out-session whenever the coast was clear, moaning and chuckling while fighting for dominance, they'd eventually ended up in David's hotel room - which led to the current situation.

„You mean, I'm your first?", David concluded and Harry was afraid that he'd kick him out, or even insult him, but except enduring his blank stare, none of those things happened.

„Yes", he said. „Are you okay with that?"

David shrugged. „Would be fucking weird to back out now, wouldn't it?"

He glanced down at Harry's erection, giving him the _am-I-right_ -look to which Harry bit his lower lip, responding with a _I-guess-so-_ face.  
So eventually, they moved on.

„Oh god", he sighed in pleasure as David deepthroated him, bobbing his head up and down. Within a second, Harry was a mess again, squirming and whining. His head fell back on the pillow, the soft cotton material damp from his sweat, just like Harry's shirt.

While David's mouth was still wrapped around his cock, his left hand unbuttoned Harry's half-open top, revealing a huge butterfly tattoo decorating his upper abdomen.  
David's finger traced the inked outlines, switching to Harry's nipples here and there, sending electric shocks through the young man's body whenever he did.

„Fuck, I'm close", he gasped after some minutes, but David kept sucking at a high pace and Harry panicked. He didn't want to come yet.

„David!", he urged. „I don't want... I want you to...-" _I want you balls deep inside me when I orgasm_ Harry tried to say and failed, because it demanded all his willpower to fight that sweet, nearing release. He was shaking. Chest heaving violently, his twitching muscles brought the captured butterfly on his skin to life.

„I won't fuck you, Harry", David stated in such an self-explaining voice which left no room for objections, but Harry was still confused.

„What, why?" _Did he miss the Big Bang somewhere between sloppy kisses and burning touches?_

„Don't get me wrong. I feel flattered and shit, but you shouldn't waste your first time with me. Wait for someone special, you know", David explained and Harry, totally overwhelmed, had no chance to talk back as his throbbing cock hit the back of the Doncaster lad's throat.

It took one, two, _three_ licks for Harry to cum on David's face - so sudden and intense that for a split second, he forgot where and who he was.  
Completely exhausted, Harry enjoyed the aftermath of his orgasm; enjoyed the mild waves of pleasure washing over his body, only to realize the indeed calming sound of waves in the distance.

The room, spacious and bright, had a balcony whose double-door was wide opened, causing the see-through cream curtains to flow elegantly in the breeze. And the view. The gorgeous view of the beach took Harry's breath away (for a second time this day).

He flinched when fingertips grazed his forehead, gently brushing a sweaty strand of hair behind his ear. Harry looked up and saw David's amused smirk.

„Oh, I'm sorry. I was just making sure I didn't suck the life out of you."

Harry rolled his eyes.

„Ha, ha. Really funny", he dryly remarked while rolling over onto his stomach. God, his limps felt like jelly.

David just wiggled his eyebrows and tilted his head as Harry grabbed his skinny jeans, roughly pulling it down.  
To his satisfaction, David's smirk (that, by the way, irritated Harry so much, because of the outrageous arrogance and yet stupid attraction it had on him) faded.  
Instead, his mouth was shaped in a tongue-tied ‚o' when Harry grasped his hips. And with the cold metal of his rings pressed against David's warm, smooth skin, Harry returned the favor.

He couldn't remember how long it took him, if it were 10 or 30 minutes, since his sense of time had taken its leave after cocktail number three earlier.  
In the end, Harry was hard again.  
David's little groans and moans were like flying sparks and Harry, at this point, was easily flammable. So David had jerked him off and now, he actually felt like his soul has left his body.

Harry stared at the ceiling. His breathing was back to normal, but his legs were still pretty shaky. He turned his head and smiled at the sleeping man next to him. Not because of his peaceful aura, but the quiet snoring that escaped his parted lips.

And then, David's words echoed in his mind. _You shouldn't waste your first time with me. Wait for someone special._

A year ago, Harry would have agreed.

Sex was intimate, a profound way to connect with your partner and most importantly: an act of love.  
But had Harry ever been in love? Like, real true love. The one you see on the big screens, this soulmate shit and ‚my-life-is-not-worth-living-without-you-mentality'?  
To be honest, Harry wasn't sure.  
All he knew was the fact that once his and David's lips were sealed, melting into a delicate kiss, that it had opened his eyes: it showed Harry that every other kiss he'd ever had in his life has been wrong.

Not in a romantic way, as their relation was pure physical, more like sexual orientation-wise.

So he laid there, in a stranger's bed, far away from home and with the background sound of the waves, as he questioned his life choices.

He thought about his past relationships, how every single one of them fell apart, ending in tears and allegations. Back then, he felt so helpless, confused and even guilty. What, for God's sake, were you supposed to say when your girlfriend accused you of finding her ugly, simply because you never got aroused with her?  
And then he thought about the many evenings he'd watched gay porn on his laptop. He would always make sure to delete his history, because his father, whenever his computer worked too slow, borrowed his son's laptop for webcam-conferences. So Harry was careful. Except on that one fateful day - he'd not just forgot to delete it, but to close the whole damn site.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, running both hands over his face. No, he wasn't in the mood to dig out the bad memories. He should be rather contemplating what to do _now_ : leave or stay?

A part of him, mostly his sanity, advised him to get the hell out of there, return to his own room, take a long, cold shower and save this one-night-stand as another experience.

Nothing more and nothing less.

But on the other hand, Harry was intrigued by David.  
He was attractive, no doubt, but there was also a veil of mystery cocooning him. They've talked, kissed and hit third base, and yet, Harry didn't know much about the man beside him.

His name was David, 28 years old and from Doncaster, with a serious passion for football. Oh, and he liked beer.  
They were basically talking about nothing for two hours straight and Harry wondered: was it because of him or David?

A deep buzz caught Harry's attention and he frowned at the noise. What was that? Oh. He mentally slapped himself when he realized it was his vibrating phone.

Reaching for his shorts that were thankfully scrunched around his ankles, Harry grabbed the device. It was a text message from Gemma.

_„Hey! How are you? Can't wait for you to come back. Just one more week... :-)"_

Harry grinned and typed.

_„Hey, I'm good. How are you? Yeah, get ready for the longest hug ever."_

_„Just good? You are in paradise while I'm sitting in grey London. What did you do today?"_

He hesitated. _Oh, you know, just some gay shit with a stranger and by the way, I'm still laying in his bed while he snorts like an old man_. He was really tempted to write it, but he resisted.

_„Explored the island. Went for a hike. Swam with the dolphins. The usual."_

_„That's all?"_ Harry raised an eyebrow. Was there a hidden camera in the room?

_„Yeah. What about you?"_

He saw his sister typing and then pausing. Typing. Pausing. Harry started to get worried. It took her almost five minutes to answer.

_„Nothing. I just miss you."_

The wrinkles between his eyebrows deepened as Harry stared at the words. Something was obviously bothering Gemma and Harry was eager to find out what it was, but then he received another message.

_„Okay, I have to go. Don't forget to buy me a souvenir. See you! xx."_

She went offline, leaving her brother puzzled. That was weird, wasn't it?  
Regarding the time difference, it was currently 5:23 am in London and Gemma usually woke up at 8 am for work, unless something happened, keeping her up.

Harry sighed. Unfortunately, his sister was as stubborn and as mulish as a sheep, so she wouldn't tell him what was on her mind and especially with the distance, things got complicated. While Harry worked on breaking down his walls during this world trip,  
Gemma tented to bottle things up.

 _„If something's troubling you, you can tell me. Love u.",_ he wrote, hoping that she would open up soon.  
But for now, before either Gemma replied or David awoke from his beauty rest, Harry turned off the emotional side of his head and allowed himself to simply exist in the present moment, absorbing his surroundings with every sense. Warm breeze, rich green palms, soft crashing waves and the soothing scent of a man lingering in the air: Yeah, he was indeed in paradise.

__

„What are you doing?"

Harry, who stood by the opened balcony doors, lowered his camera and turned to David.

He was laying in bed, on top of the blankets and half-naked in black briefs, because of the sticky heat (and their previous activity). Eyelids still heavy from sleep, he peered at the tall Brit.

„I'm just taking some photos of the sunset. It'd be a shame to miss it...", Harry replied, positioning the reflex camera again in front of his eye to capture the rich colors. It clicked.

„Did I wake you up?" He smiled apologetically, but David shook his head.

His once neat quiff had fallen a victim to sleep. Hair down, he looked like a different person with his side-swept fringe and the messy, layered toffee brown mop on top. It radiated a mix of playfulness and coolness and along with the short sides and spiked up strands, jaws would drop when he walked by like this, Harry was sure.

„What time is it?"

Harry checked his watch. „It's a little after 7", he read and David groaned.

„What?", Harry wondered.

„I have a meeting at 8."

„Oh."

The bed creaked as David got up, joining Harry. On his way, he bent down to fish a cigarette pack out of his jeans on the ground, offering Harry one of them, but he declined.

„I don't smoke."

David pursed his lips, slightly nodding in an approving way. „Smart choice", he said and put a cigarette between his thin lips.

Harry's eyes followed him as he stepped out on the balcony, leaning on the parapet after he lighted his cigarette.

„Fucking beautiful", he mumbled, breathing out some smoke. The sun started to touch the horizon, melting into the glistening ocean and caressing the beach with its last rays of bright orange. The view was indeed fucking beautiful.

However, Harry stood by the threshold, awkwardly. Fully dressed and leather shoulder bag on - he was ready to leave. So he cleared his throat and David turned around, bum resting on the bamboo railing, taking a long drag as he eyed Harry.

„Are you a photographer?", he asked and Harry blinked. Not only because of the unexpected question, but to the tattoos that covered David's chest.

The cursive lettering ‚ _It is what it is_ ' below his collar bones and the bold number _78_ on his left pec were hard to miss (let alone the many small ones on the inner side of his right arm), so Harry wondered how he did anyway, but to be fair, he was distracted with other things...

Just the skull on his left wrist wasn't a surprise as Harry had spotted it back at the bar.

Mouth twisted, Harry shrugged lightly. „No, it's more like a hobby."

David smirked knowingly. „A hobby or a passion?", he specified, making Harry smile.

„A passion", he confessed. „How do you know?"

David held the smoke in his lungs before he blew it out, running the tip of his tongue over his lower lip.

„Wouldn't spend a shit ton of money on such a camera if it's just a hobby", he said, clearly pleased with his deduction skills and Harry lowered his head to hide his widening smile, head shaking.

„Didn't know you were an expert in this field."

„I'm an expert in many fields."  
Raising his gaze, Harry was met with David's all too familiar arrogance, tip of his tongue peeking through his perfect straight teeth as the boy inside him sniggered. _So the handsome, arrogant clown was cute as well._

„How humble", Harry mumbled under his breath and realized that he was still standing there. Shifting from one foot to the other, he slowly turned away, motioning with his thumb to the door. „Guess I'll be on my way, then."

David showed no emotion, just nodded, sucking on his cigarette.

„Cheers, lad", he breathed out and Harry stopped in his tracks, doorknob in his hand. He hesitated.

„How long are you staying here, by the way?", Harry asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. _Maybe they could spend the time together._

A bird's shriek suddenly cut through the peaceful silence and David watched it flying above the ocean toward the sinking sun. He seemed oddly lost in thought.

„'til Friday", came his short answer. Today was Tuesday.

And then, it was silent again.  
David's disinterest about Harry's stay discouraged the long-haired man to take a step further, so Harry swallowed down his idea and opened the door.  
He was hoping for David to say something. A cheeky remark, another question or even a chuckle for Harry to turn back and ask for the reason. Anything.

But he didn't.

The door's lock latched shut with a compliant click behind Harry, in unison with his busted bubble.

He walked down the corridor, the recent events looping in his head like a broken record, with those ocean-eyes always flashing up, sparkling like diamonds beneath the water surface and Harry, who'd seen five of the new seven wonders of the world and crossed every continent, found himself - for the first time - deeply moved by those priceless diamonds.


	3. II

After a nice shower and a good night's sleep, Harry felt like a new man. He put his hair in a bun, brushed his teeth and went down to the hotel's lobby for some breakfast.

Since it was early in the morning, around 6 am, the hall was quite empty. Harry, while helping himself at the buffet, scanned the lobby discreetly, but despite two workers who set the tables, an old couple and a brunette guy, there was nobody he knew. _No David._

Said brunette guy whistled a cheerful melody while pilling up every single food on his plate. The creation equaled an accident and had the same effect, because Harry, even though he didn't want to look, couldn't avert his irritated gaze.

Naturally, they made eye-contact when he passed him.

„Morning", the stranger beamed, garnishing his food-tower with small mango cubes.  
_Ah, another English fellow. What were the odds?_

But Harry wasn't in the mood for some small talk, so he nodded his greetings and headed outside to the patio, taking a seat under the sunshade.  
Fresh coffee and some scrambled eggs on bread gave Harry strength for an exciting day in Honolulu. He was looking forward to explore the Manoa Falls as the weather seemed perfect - dark, heavy clouds stained the bright blue sky above Oahu's famous volcanic crater _Diamond Head,_ promising a tropical downpour and a heftier waterfall.

Just when he made a checklist in his head of all the things he needed for his hiking trip, the patio door opened and Harry held his breath in anticipation and shit - he almost spilled his coffee, mug pausing in front of his lips.

To his disappointment, it was a uniformed woman, the same from the lobby, who wiped some tables clean and Harry mentally rolled his eyes. He contemplated asking her to wipe his whole existence away, because since when did he act like a startled chicken?

And since when did he sit at the edge of the patio, back facing the postcard-perfect beach with its white sandy stretches and endless crystal water, while instead, glimpsing at the door like a predator?  
Ah, Right. Since he'd made the acquaintance of Mr. Doncaster 2020 last night.

With memories flashing through his mind, Harry took a big sip of his coffee; the bitter drink barely covering the equally bitter aftertaste of regret.

Truth was, Harry had laid in bed; cheeks rosy from the shower and David's touches still present on his skin; wondering if he should have stayed - if he should have joined David on the balcony, wrapping his arms around his slim waist to pull him closer and steal a kiss, or even two, and while they'd melt together with the descending sun, liquid gold in each others hands, Harry would have realized it wasn't the sunset, but David's beauty that took his breath away.

Because fuck - did he jump out of a painting?

And Harry, plagued by the humid air and plenty ‚ _what-ifs_ ' while tossing and turning in his bed, thought that David was indeed a piece of art.

Like those oil paintings from the Renaissance that decorated the museums' walls, portraits of kings and noblemen clamped in ornamented golden frames, capturing the viewer with remarkable craft skills and vibrant colors. But underneath those color layers, trapped within the canvas, was something else - a feeling, a mood, a deeper meaning - something hidden from the human eye.

It bothered Harry, immensely, as he wasn't able to see David's true self, the soul behind the beauty. His eyes - deep as the ocean, cold as ice and shiny as sapphires - full of life, yet as dead as a painted portrait.

Because yes, David was cheeky, funny and charming with that annoyingly little smirk and straight forward comments, it was refreshing, it really was, but the sudden change in his eyes as soon as Harry asked about his stay; thunderclouds darkening his blue skies; had been haunting his dreams - and still was.

He chewed on his scrambled eggs, trying to figure out the deeper meaning of David. Was something awful awaiting him in Doncaster?  
A hated job?  
Money problems?  
A homophobic father who only cared for his reputation rather than his son?

The eggs got almost stuck in his throat and Harry checked his phone for some distraction.

There was no need to dig deeper. It has been a one-time-thing, David made that clear - in one way or another - and Harry shouldn't waste his time worrying about a stranger, but enjoy his last week in Honolulu.

So, the decision was made: no more thinking, just living in the here and now. And after Harry exiled any thoughts regarding David, including every detail of last night, securely locked away in the back of his mind and labeled ‚ _Do not open_ ', he proceeded to check his text messages and frowned.

Gemma hasn't replied yet.  
A little confused by his sister's silence, Harry added a phone call on his mental checklist, right after the hike. _Better safe than sorry_.

„Come on, Louis! The weather is perfect!", a man suddenly said, way too loud and way too happy on an early morning, and Harry raised his head.

Ah, it was the brunette guy with the inhumanely appetite.

He stood by the entrance, door pushed open with his back while he held his food tray in both hands.  
Judging by his hearty laughter that echoed through the fenced terrain, his friend, who supposedly stayed inside, must have made a funny remark.

„No way, mate! I want to enjoy my breakfast and your stinky cigarettes would just ruin it!"

Fair point, Harry thought, his attention back to his phone. He studied the bus route to the waterfall, memorizing the stop's names and numbers when he noticed that the guy was still standing at the door, alone.

His powerful voice (that could easily bend steal) was lowered, mumbling words towards the lobby and Harry watched the stranger's bewildered profile, watched how he turned his head and met his gaze.

Not by mistake, no.

The man's eyes bored into his, so intense and forthright, it made him feel a little uncomfortable, and as Harry went through his memories searching for this maybe forgotten face with the muddy Forget-Me-Nots eyes, petals glowing in the morning sun, the stranger scrutinized him with a last friendly, but piercing look before he went back inside.

And that was it.

And that was kind of quirky, yes, but Harry shrugged it off nonetheless as the sky above him became darker and darker, threatening to burst into tears soon.

So instead, he finished his breakfast and made his way back to his room, grabbing two bananas in doing so (there was no sign of the brunette guy and his friend called ‚Louis' in the lobby which was weird, again, because it would break like 100 laws of physics to finish this amount of food in 10 minutes).

A warm puff of wind welcomed Harry when he entered his hotel room.

The French balcony doors were ajar, airing every thought and every dream from last night out. Taking a deep breath of purity, Harry proceeded to throw all essential things in a backpack.  
Once done, he changed into a loose shirt; pink palm leaves print and short sleeves rolled up; revealing the tattoos on his sun kissed arms, as well as camel shorts and sunglasses.

When Harry was ready to go, stuffed backpack and hiking boots on, he inspected the room before heading out, his gaze gliding over the double bed and mahogany table - just to still at the sight of the balcony.  
He hesitated, but eventually gave in, strolling along the carpeted floor to the source of fresh air, hands grasping the white frames as he stood there at the threshold. Rays of light caught in his pale green eyes, golden flakes dripping in milky jade and longing, reflecting a memory.

_He should have joined him._

And then, the thought passed as suddenly as it arrived and without looking back, Harry exited his room, backpack heavier than before.

__

It was 6:30 am and the asphalt has already turned into burning coals.

Harry could practically feel the heat waves crawling up his legs, licking at his skin and leaving a thin film of sweat, face shiny like warm honey porcelain.

Luckily, the bus stop wasn't far away, just a 5-minute-walk up the hill and around the corner, so he took his time and listened to some music. ‚ _Shine On You Crazy Diamond_ ' was still blasting in his ears when Harry got on the air-conditioned bus (thank god) and took a seat by the window.

On time, the bus driver hit the gas pedal to turn on the road, engine buzzing and vehicle rocking, they moved downhill with tall coconut palms and even taller creamy buildings on either side, passing Harry's hotel at the crossing.

Casually facing the building and admiring the huge entrance's pillars, he noted that the patio was more crowded by now and then, out of the blue, a cold shiver ran down Harry's spine and it wasn't due to the properly working air-conditioner (though he wished it was).

No.

There he was - standing in the shadows on the patio, cigarette in his left hand, phone in his right, pressing the device against his freshly shaved cheek while talking through heavy clouds of smoke.

Hair back up in a fluffy quiff and chest tattoo peeking out of the white tee's deep neckline, David flashed a smile - not a smirk, not a grin, a real fucking adorable toothy smile.

And Harry, unable to look away from that spectacle, realized that he'd been fooling himself. Because from the moment he'd saw David at the bar and since he'd got a taste of those lips, Harry wanted more.

More teasing. More passion. More devotion. More David.

For the first time in his life, there seemed to be light at the end of the tunnel, a tiny spark among the darkness, a faint promise of happiness.

And it was enough for Harry, despite the risk of rejection, to try at least.

Just talking to David, asking him to spend more time together, maybe exchange phone numbers and fuck it, even a simple ‚ _hello_ ', one word would be enough to alleviate his conscience rather than saying nothing.

He took one last look at the smoking blue-eyed man before the bus passed the hotel complex, speeding up towards Manoa Street, and while ‚ _Shine On You Crazy Diamond_ ' reached its end, Harry leaned his forehead against the warm window glass, a soft smile drawn on his lips for the rest of the drive.

__

The hike was exhausting, but the surroundings made up for the slippery rocks and climbs.

Earth soggy beneath his feet from the quick rain shower, as well as his hair and clothes, (because mother nature decided to cry when he stepped out of the bus), Harry admired the rainforest's flora - sweet-smelling eucalyptus, wild-growing banyan tress, tall bamboo and large fire-red flowers of ginger - it was beautiful and Harry couldn't resist taking some photos.

But when he finally reached the path's end, after dragging his sore legs over a pool of huge rocks, a dozen of other people already standing there, chatting, heads back, snapping pictures and then, the gentle splashing sound reached his ears and Harry, slowly raising his chin, was taken aback.

The waterfall, a thin stream of melted crystal, glided down a 100-foot rock wall and the porous gray, wet and glistening and dripping, was covered in lush greens as nature had crawled up its way - grass, bushes and even trees framed the streaming fountain of life.

It was stunning, magical, even soothing.

And even after Harry was back at the parking lot where the bus has dropped him, he pulled out his camera to make sure he didn't just imagined it.

So he stared at the tiny display which almost touched his nose because the sun was blinding (the sky was cloudless blue again), and registered a slamming car door, followed by grating sand under some footsteps.

Harry, in his own little world where plants brush his skin and the waterfall's splashes tickle his face, didn't care to look up - why would he, it was probably another hiker. But when the footsteps got closer and louder, way too far away from the actual trail, he raised his head and holy guacamole - he didn't except that.

„Hiya!", the brunette guy greeted, beaming smile competing with the sun and voice all friendly and confident. Harry lowered his camera.

„Hey", he replied slightly irritated, because the bewilderment was completely washed away from the stranger's eyes and Harry wondered if he'd misinterpreted things this morning.

However, the guy then laughed, mouth wide open and Forget-Me-Nots buried in crinkles.

„I think I scared you away at breekie."

Oh fuck, was it so obvious? A little embarrassed and unsure what to say, Harry just half-smiled, a quiet nervous chuckle escaping his lips. He decided to apologize probably, when the man reached out his hand in a swift movement.

„I'm Niall. At your service!", he introduced himself, words roaring like thunder while disguising a hint of amusement.

„Harry." They shook hands (or more specifically: Niall squeezed Harry's hand so tight, so enthusiastically, that his fingers felt numb) and Niall seemed pleased with his new friend, hands resting on his hips and legs spread, he looked like a sports coach with his grey, baggy shorts and Nike running jacket, zipped all the way up, while he focused on the green, dense jungle.

„You've been up there?", he asked, eyes narrowed painfully, even though a pair of sunglasses were chilling atop of his copper wavy hair. Harry nodded, no chance to speak as Niall lowered his gaze and gasped.

„Oh, shit! Look at your shoes, mate! All dirty and muddy... Fucking rain, innit?"

Maybe Harry's brain was just too slow to process Niall's racing words, because as soon as he opened his mouth, he got interrupted again.

„Shouldn't have picked my brand new shoes, look!", he twisted his pearl white footwear, giving Harry all the angles, „Nice and clean. Rather lick a tree than cleaning this mess afterwards."

And Harry shrugged, head titled.  
„Then buy a new pair", he suggested jokingly and Niall, eyes wide and jaw dropped as if he'd solved Einstein's theory of relativity, smashed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

„What a brillant idea! Thanks, mate!" _Wait, what?_

And so, some time passed. More and more cars started to fill the parking lot while Harry; who'd learned that the luxurious black car behind Niall, the one whose polished paint glittered like a disco ball, actually belonged to Niall - well, he'd rented it, but still, probably costed a small fortune regarding the brand; absorbed every given information like a sponge.

Despite his love for sports cars (maybe he was a coach indeed), Harry also learned that Niall was Irish, moved from Dublin to London (again, what were the odds?) and was the proud owner of five guitars, including a grand piano and a penthouse in Chelsea (did he train the fucking national football team?).

And while Harry listened, nodding here and there, he learned one outstanding fact: Niall loved to talk.  
A lot. (The waterfall's stream was nothing compared to Niall's pouring words).

He had the debatable talent to share a mountain of information in one breath, both interesting and unnecessary information - mostly unnecessary, but Harry was rather fascinated than annoyed, because somehow, Niall managed to sell those endless monologues by laughing his loud juvenile laughter and grinning his boyish grin, both uniquely charming.

It was actually nice. As if they were proper mates, catching up after years of separation, a warmth of intimacy and comfort filling his body and all Harry had to do was to listen. To simply exist and bathing in this Irish whirlpool of friendliness.

„So, what are you doing here?", Niall asked once finishing his crush on cheese fondue, yanking Harry out of his comfortable daze. He met Niall's curious gaze, mouth shut and patiently waiting for an answer. _Oh, so now it was his turn?_

Harry shrugged, for the 38th time it seemed, while softly kneading his bun.

„Nothing special, just enjoying my time here." Niall studied him and Harry had a deja vu.

„I see", the Irish music-lover said, hands deep in his jacket's pockets, the baby blue material matching his innocent eyes.

Straight out of politeness, Harry returned the question, causing Niall to look up to the bright blue sky, skin freckled and glowing like a sunflower field. He kept quite, which was unusual, or - Harry didn't know him, so based on their 15-minute long chat, it seemed unusual, and when another car passed them, parking a few feet away, Niall was back to his old self, all bubbly and giggling.

„Just getting some work done, you know, and using every free minute to do the same as you."

_Huh?_

Harry couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something in his voice, as well as a dark shadow in his eyes when he mentioned work.

„Isn't your work enjoyable?", Harry therefore wondered and Niall laughed, running a hand through his hair and almost dropped his sunglasses, probably forgot about them, so now they were safe on the bridge of his sunburnt nose.

„I make the best of it. Life's too short to be upset, right?"

And that made Harry frown a little, because wow - imagining Niall, happy-outgoing-loud-with-a-smile-tattooed-on-his-never-resting-lips-Niall doing something he absolutely despised, dark shadows on his sunny features and mumbling curses.

He couldn't help but purse his lips at the thought and thankfully, Niall was oblivious to Harry's mischief, because he patted his arm firmly.

„Alright, mate. Better go, I have a waterfall to gawk at."

Harry smiled at Niall's grimace that supposedly should represent his gawking face, and as the other lad took off, he slowly picked up his backpack from the ground.

„And a tree to lick!", Harry called, because they might or might not made a bet, and Niall, who stomped away with long, energetic steps, turned around to reveal his Cheshire grin.

„We should hit the bar sometime! They have a fucking great single malt whisky!", Niall yelled back, waving his goodbye and Harry just shook his head, hopelessly entranced by that whirlwind called Niall and his carefree nature.

__

Waikiki beach - located on the South Shore of Oahu and a dream come true with its powdered crystal sand and clear, turquoise water - is where Harry ended up after strolling through the city and eating his first _Malasada_ , a sinfully delicious yeast doughnut.

The beach was crowded, filled with playing children, bikini clad beauties, surfers, caramelized bodybuilders and endless rows of sunbathers, including Harry.

Which was no surprise as Waikiki was considered one of the most well-known beaches on the planet, as well as the perfect place for people watching - giving credence to the many online reviews.

So that's what Harry was doing.

He sat there, feet buried in hot sand with his camera hanging in front of his exposed chest, watching the surfers riding smooth, long waves.  
There were two groups - the beginners, who stayed near the shore, practicing on smaller waves, while the pro surfers, who were closer to the horizon than the shore, conquered the bigger, gigantic waves.

It looked extremely dangerous, yet so easy as they casually balanced their boards on the swelling ocean.  
But one surfer in particular caught his eye - not because of his impressive moves, turning his board abruptly to create flashy buckets of white mist, no hint of fear or insecurity while doing so, just a coolness one just radiated after years and years of practice.

No. It weren't his skills that caught his eye.

It was the unexpected situation of seeing David surfing.

Squinting his eyes and blocking the sun with his hand, Harry inspected the surfer in question and yup, there was no mistaking.  
That was fucking David, surfing like a fucking pro and he had no idea how to handle it.

Because sweet Jesus: David looked illegally good dressed in a tight, black wetsuit with his wet hair sleeked backwards, running down his neck and his long thick lashes drenched in glistening water-drops (he couldn't see that, but he imagined it).

And so he enjoyed the view, joining the people-watching-movement with his sunglasses covering his hawk-like stare.

Occasionally, Harry would capture the lazy palm leaves bobbing in the salty breeze, pictures of crocodile green on azure. Or he'd undo his bun, letting the wind untangle his long curls and framing his glossy arched neck.  
Or he'd stand by the shore so the gentle waves caressed his feet, like David used to caress his hipbones.

Speaking of David, he was still in the water, tireless and moves flawless and Harry was secretly amazed by David's stamina.

Even though he'd waited for what felt like hours, seeing David in his element was enough compensation for Harry to sit back down on his spot to wait for their longed-for reunion.

When the moment came, Harry was totally unprepared. He saw David doing the most cinema worthy trick ever.

First, Harry was alarmed because that sky high wave broke and swallowed up David, but David, that little show-off, was in fact riding the hollow part of the wave, his body covered by the curl's lip and Harry was speechless.  
And impressed.  
And fucking nervous, because David was now aiming for the beach. _Oh shit, here we go._

„Take a picture, it will last longer."

That was the first thing David said to him and Harry flinched as if he'd just popped a ballon in front of his face.

With the board held tight under his armpit and hair slick and shiny as silk, Harry blinked repeatedly as he took David's appearance in because a) the sassiness was basically dripping from his voice and b) when the fuck did he get out of the water?

But even more important - he had spotted Harry and decided to stop by. _What a lucky day._

Ignoring his stupid emotions that made his cheeks catch fire under the already burning hot sun, Harry dared to smirk up at the drenched man, dimples shaded deeper than normal.

„May I?", he asked challengingly and David quirked an eyebrow.

„No." Short and crisp, with a delicate aroma of seriousness. _Shoot, he should have sticked to the simple ‚hello'._

„Are you following me?", David added, which just increased Harry's discomfort.

Weren't they suppose to have a light conversation, maybe even flirt instead of those allegations? And Harry wished that Niall would pop out from somewhere, dispelling the thick air between them and talk about cheese fondue and whisky.  
Because fuck, a drink sounded like heaven right now, especially when David gave him this stone-cold look.

„You're aware that this is Honolulu's most popular and visited beach, yeah?", Harry replied, his voice neutral like a blank canvas and David seemed a little surprised by the shoot back.

„Did you though?", David asked, completely ignoring the comment, and Harry frowned

„What?"

„Taking a photo of me surfing?" And maybe it was just Harry's imagination, but there was a worrying undertone escorting that question, leaving him confused.

„No. I don't photograph people without their consent", he stated, carefully storing the camera in his backpack and keeping his gaze at the zipper.

„Good", David said, his face starting to light up. „Otherwise, I'd fucking hit you with my board."

And that made Harry chuckle lowly while he examined the seams.

„Save it. I don't want to ruin your board with my thick skull", he joked and that, on the other hand, made David snort, as well as lifting the corners of his mouth and Harry, stupid sentimental Harry, felt somewhat accomplished by that simple reaction.

„You're really good, by the way. Those tricks were really impressive", he complimented truthfully, nodding towards the wide ocean.

Instead of thanking him, David formed one of those arrogant smirks and Harry, glad to wear sunglasses, rolled his eyes because David's ego somehow managed to even surpass the horizon.

 _‚So you were watching me_ ', his gaze mocked him, but Harry let himself fall back, landing with a dull _thump_ on the sand. His head felt heavy, too heavy, filled with cement and it was David's fault.  
Yes, David and his smirk and his attitude and his piercing eyes - everything about him, every little detail required all the space inside Harry's head.

Suddenly, a shadow covered his face and upper body, blocking out the sun, much to Harry's dismay and he was met with David's figure towering over him.

„What are you doing?", he more criticized than asked, but Harry just pretended he still felt the sun sizzling his skin.

„Laying here? Sunbathing?"

„I see that, fatty."

_Fatty?_

„Excuse me?", Harry inquired, slightly offended. He sat up and slid his sunglasses on top of his head so that he could look his tormentor straight in the eyes, who - who would have guessed - smirked victoriously.

„Okay? What happened with the ‚ _I won't judge you_ ' mentality?", he reminded David, referring to their activities the day before, but unfortunately, it had no effect on him.

„I'm not judging. I'm stating facts. And as you said - you're at Honolulu's most popular beach, but all you do is sit on your ass like an old man while watching the fit surfers."

What the actual fuck? Either Harry got sand in his ears or David's brain has been flushed by the salt water. But nevertheless, two could play this game.

„Says the one who fell asleep yesterday and snorted like an old geezer."

David narrowed his eyes. „I don't snort." _Jackpot._

„Yes you do", Harry said firmly, causing David to set his mouth in a hard line, shoulders tense and equalling a child that got his favorite candy denied, and Harry was ready for another verbal attack, when out of nowhere, David threw his board next to Harry.

„Get up", he demanded, arms crossed.

„What?"

„Are you deaf? Get up. We're going to surf." Harry knitted his eyebrows, because the sentence made no sense to him. Anyhow, he obeyed and stoop up.

„I've never surfed", he told David, but that didn't do shit as the other showed no concern nor reaction.

„You'll learn it."

„I hiked the Manoa Falls this morning", Harry blabbered without thinking, slapping himself mentally because why the hell did he share that unnecessary information?

He blamed Niall's influence, but unlike the Irish social butterfly, Harry did not laugh or smile, he didn't wrap the awkwardness in glitter and bows, no, just big eyes and a dumbfounded face accompanied his stupid words.

„Congratulations, lad. Even kids are able to hike that path. Or are you trying to say that you need to take it easy for the rest of the day?", David spoke with quite the tongue and  
Harry parted his lips to answer, but got interrupted.

„Now stop whining and get changed, you fucking pussy." _How delightful._

__

He took it back. Harry took everything he thought about David back.

All those cheesy comparisons with golden framed portraits, light in the dark and the sapphires eyes shit - he took it all back.

Why? Because David was neither delicate nor gentle nor charming at all.

And Harry, at this point, was sure that there wasn't blood running through David's veins, but pure venom. Venom that he liked to spit out here and there with his little comments and remarks, stupid arrogant smirk always on his lips, and even though it was all sarcasm and fun (well, mostly for David) - Harry felt like he has reached a dead end.

Because during their surfing session (where he didn't manage to jump on the board and if he did, he'd miss the wave while David, fucking born-to-surf-David, kept teasing him, for instance calling him ‚ _fatty_ ' or ‚ _old fart_ ' which ended in little arguments), not once did David try to approach him, make a real compliment or even flirt.

Nothing.  
Just teasing, teasing, teasing.

And Harry came to the realization that David at that time, at the bar and in his hotel room, was just nice to him in order to get laid. But David, who refused to fuck virgins, didn't' get laid and so, this was his revenge now.  
Making Harry pay for fooling him, for brushing his crotch underneath the table as well as brushing any doubts aside regarding his sexuality and experience.

So was Harry the bad guy here? To be fair, his mind was intoxicated by three (or maybe even four) cocktails that washed away his inhibitions. _Insanity? Really?_

Either way, that was the only reasonable explanation for David's behavior.

It was all his evil plan, which worked, as Harry - body aching and arms wobbly and motionless rocking in the water - laid on his board, (which David had rented for him, including the wetsuit and locker for Harry's belongings. There was nothing too expensive for his plan) floating like drift wood, back facing the sky. _Where was his pipe to whistle SOS?_

David was luckily busy tackling the huge waves, far far away from Harry and his peaceful bliss.

He closed his eyes, water drops tickling his nose and the scent of warm salt, suncream and apricot nectar lingered in the summer air. Along with the distant voices and swooshing waves, Harry decided that life was good.  
Venom-spitting-someone or not.

And after a while; maybe minutes or hours, because time didn't matter at this oasis; Harry, limps rested and neoprene noticeably heated, decided to go diving.

He took a deep breath, letting himself engulf by the Pacific Ocean as he dragged his head beneath the surface.

It amazed him, again and again, how clear Hawaii's water was, allowing him to appreciate the little colorful fishes, their lemon scales sparkling between corals and dancing above the champagne sand.  
Harry followed them, swimming calmly with slow strokes, until his lungs ran out of air and he paddled up to his board - where David already awaited him. _Great._

„You're supposed to surf. Not play Little Mermaid", he pointed out, sitting on his own board and judging Harry with his blue daggers, because daggers were more fitting than sapphires Harry had decided while napping earlier.

But Harry just shrugged, arms folded on the board while rest of his body floating, imagining the beautiful fishes swarming his feet.

„I actually like _The Little Mermaid_ ", he replied unaffectedly and eyed his wrinkled, wet fingers, ignoring David's mumbled „Of course you do."

He put his chin atop of his arms, not moving an inch es he glanced up at David, giving him his best puppy dog eyes the world has ever seen.

„I'm tired. Can we please get out?", Harry purred in his sweetest voice, hoping that David would show some mercy, but of-course-fucking-not, because that son of a bitch looked at him in sheer disbelief, might just asked him ‚ _What's the total of 1 + 1?_ '

Eyebrows raised and almost touching his hairline, David then seemed to consider Harry's plea (finally) and sighed.

„We'll get out. But you have to try one more time, okay? The waves are pretty good right now, nice and long, perfect for beginners", David suggested, making Harry groan in frustration and banging his forehead lightly against his arms.  
He was in hell.

And that man right next to him - that was the fucking devil in disguise, hiding behind a pair of frosty blue eyes. Was he exaggerating? Maybe. Or maybe he was downplaying it.

„No... I'm completely worn out. Every muscle is aching."

„Come on, cry baby. Just one more time."

And Harry sighed, giving in, because arguing with David would lead to nothing.

„Alright, you sadist", he grumbled, and crawled on his board, laying flat on his stomach while paddling towards the horizon, right on David's tail.

The waves were indeed wilder, what kind of worried Harry, because he couldn't estimate which one was safe to ride.

But for the moment, he just wanted to get this over with, wanted to heave his heavy limps on firm ground, sinking into the comforting sand and forgetting David's smirk (that had probably left its mark on his retina).

And so he waited for the next wave, head turned backwards, observing, and when the ocean started to raise, he paddled as fast as he could to catch it.

Arms on fire, Harry felt his board pushed upwards and so he paddled even faster, ignoring the sharp stabbing pain, ignored even David's calls because all that mattered was the fact that he stood on his board.

He did it.

He made it.

He'd managed to jump on his fucking board and caught the wave - or so he thought. Because his perfect illusion only lasted for a split second.

Euphoria numbing his senses, Harry got pushed off his board, tons of water crashing over him, forcing his body to become one with the flow and dragging him underwater.

Spinning, swirling, struggling and panicking - Harry didn't know which way was up or which one was down, all he knew was the sheer terror.

He reached out his arms, throwing them in every direction in hope, in desperate hope to get a grip of something, anything and then - there was something, but instead of saving him, the object hit his head, a dull throbbing pain spreading, leaving Harry even more startled.  
_The board_ , he thought as he became alarmingly aware of his mortality. Fuck.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

His mind was racing, but at the same time, empty. Every thought passing in lighting speed before it could even manifest, except of one - Gemma. He forgot. The call. Fuck.

And then, when his cries of help got swallowed up by the hungry ocean, the sun's heat clashed with his damp face that was still pained in fear and panic and Harry, eyes wide open, stared at David who, himself, reflected a mixture of shock and worry.

„Fuck! You alright?! Breath!", David instructed, arms tightly wrapped around Harry, but the boy was disoriented, still traumatized and fumbled with his weak arms, accidentally hitting David's face.

„Hey! Calm down, you're safe! Okay? You're safe!" A few light slaps brought Harry back to his senses and he started to cough, his throat and lungs burning.

„That's right! Good, good!", David praised and lifted Harry on his board, making him lay on his back and while he pushed it towards the safe shore,

Harry constantly coughing, David kept talking, using reassuring words to ease the traumatic incident.  
Shortly before the beach, the coughing has stopped and Harry just stared still at the innocent bright blue sky, sun shining as if nothing had happened.

And as soon as the tip of the board touched the sand, Harry jumped up and stormed away, legs shaking and steps clumsy.

„Hey! Harry!", David called, but he got no reaction, so he ran after the drenched Brit who was surprisingly fast considering his state and cursed those damn long legs. Compared to Harry's seamlessly pace, he was trotting like a Dachshund behind him with his much shorter legs, trying to catch up.

„Hey!", he tried again. „Just wait, will ya'?!" David grabbed the soaked neoprene of his arm, but Harry yanked him away, swirling around, his fists clenched tight.

They were at a parking lot, palm trees covering the crowded beach, providing them some privacy.

Harry was angry. Very angry, David could see that and Harry could see the puzzled expression on David's face - which just made his blood boil even more, because how dared this fucker to play dumb?

„Are you fucking happy, yeah?!", Harry yelled, voice raspy and shaky and broken.  
He has never been this upset in his life, never, and despite the rage he felt just looking at David's face, he blamed himself for all of this, blamed his nativity and his foolish belief in some twisted destiny.

„Happy?", David repeated as if he'd try to understand the meaning behind Harry's words by letting them melt on his own tongue. Without effect.

„The fuck are you talking about?", he asked.

„You wanted to teach me a lesson? Let me tell you something: it worked!", Harry growled and slowly, like the rising sun at dawn, its nascent light of realization flooding David's face, smoothing his frown and any wrinkles by opening his eyes to the matter.

„Wait... You think I did this on purpose?", David concluded, index finger pressed against his heaving chest before outstretching it towards the ocean. And then back to his chest.

„Me?" He shook his head in disbelief as he turned away, the accusation putting a bitter smile on his lips and Harry watched him closely.

„You've got some serious issues if you truly believe I did this on purpose."

„It's the only explanation", Harry argued, voice a bit calmer but nonetheless furious and taunting, making David scoff, loud enough for Harry to clench his fists even tighter, knuckles white and sharp.

„The only _fucking_ explanation is that you fucktard ignored my warnings and instead, decided to ride this _fucking_ tsunami, god knows why, and obviously, as a _fucking_ beginner, you jumped up too early and got wiped out. Mystery solved, you _fucking_ genius!", he pressed through gritted teeth, neck red and his forehead's vein popping more and more with every spatted ‚ _fucking_ ', David was about to explode - but instead of letting it all out, he looked away in disgust, mumbled some curses under his breath and walked away - and

Harry, still unforgiving, was not having it so he followed him across the parking lot.

„Where are you going?!", he demanded.

„Oh, give me a break!", David exclaimed without stopping or looking, he suddenly had a set of keys in his hands and opened a black car - the same model as Niall's, and Harry let his gaze wander, spotting at least three more luxurious black vehicles of the brand. _Had he missed a special deal?_

However, his attention was back to David who stood by the open driver's door, his right arm resting on the car roof while the other was busy holding a lit cigarette.

Unlike yesterday, his drags were quick and greedy, foot tapping restlessly while his eyes fixated something, someone or maybe nothing in the far distance - having a smoke while Harry just stood there.

„Fuck", David breathed after what felt like forever, wisps of silver grey smoke curling in the muggy air, lingering over his parted lips.

There was a weird tension, almost like the end of a storm, electric anticipation still hidden in the dark clouds and the wind howling through every crack, with adrenaline buzzing for the next big boom - but it never came.

All that was left was chaos, shattered glass and mixed up emotions. Once the shock started to die down, crawling back into the beautiful, powerful ocean, Harry was just drained - shoulders slack, head down and arms hanging at his sides lifelessly.

„You think I hate you so much I would drown you?", David spoke, voice a smokey whisper and as tired as Harry felt, which stung his chest a little.  
Hearing those words aloud made him gulp, because fuck, he totally overreacted, blinded by his idiotic thoughts and theories, rather believing it was David's doing than a simple accident.

Though he knew he was wrong, apology stuck in his still burning throat as false pride pulled it back down to his simmering gut, Harry wasn't able to look up.

The chance of being confronted with judgement dipped in blue was keeping his head down, or even worse - pity.

Maybe David saw his efforts, or maybe he was just as done as Harry, either way, he rounded the car and opened the passenger door.

„Okay, princess. Get your ass into the car."

And at that, Harry's head snapped up.

„You aren't mad?", he checked, baffled and stunned as he hesitantly stepped closer, causing David to take one last long inhale of his cigarette before he snipped it on the asphalt.

„Get inside."

„I'm still wet."  
Exhaling ashy trails of toxic clouds, David twisted his mouth so he wouldn't break the eye-contact.

„Guess what, I don't give a fuck", he just said and Harry took it as his cue to shut up and do as told. So he climbed inside and sat down, a suffocating heatwave welcoming him as well as the smell of leather, nicotine and money.

David slammed the door shut, marching to the driver door - and to Harry's surprise - slammed it too.

Without turning around though, he watched David's leaving figure on the side-view mirror and realized that he was probably picking up Harry's clothes and backpack from the locker.

And Harry was right.

After some time, David returned - arms full and hair semi-wet, messed up by the breeze and possibly frustration. He threw everything in the trunk before he took his seat behind the wheel, starting the purring engine without saying anything and Harry didn't know if he liked that or not.

__

The drive was awkward - so much, that Harry contemplated to exit the car at one of the many red traffic lights.

Every time, when the car came to a halt, his hand sneaked to the door knob, fingertips tingling and sweating. But in the end, he didn't do it as it would only feed his guilt.  
Because guilt was what strangled him, what turned the air into sandpaper and minutes into hours.  
Especially since David, whose stern eyes were focused on the road, refused to acknowledge Harry's presence.

No side glances. No words. Nothing.

Instead, those unspoken words blended with the high-class interior, adding life to the polished leather seats and creating invisible arms that grabbed Harry's shoulders, dragging him down, pushing him, reminding him of his mistake.

He released a shaky breath, nibbling at this already bruised lips when the car came to another halt at a traffic light and he couldn't take it anymore.

„I'm sorry", Harry mumbled, hands tugging at the hem of his wetsuit (which they both still wore, but neither of them seemed to care).

Hoping that David would show some reaction, Harry tilted his head a little to see his profile, and - to his relief - caught a clenching jaw. Whether it was a good or bad sign, Harry gladly took it.

„That were some pretty wild allegations", David finally broke his silence, right hand chilling on the silver topped gear stick. He was staring at the traffic light and Harry, pushed by his guilt, faced him fully.

„I know. I guess the shock was messing with my head", he sheepishly confessed, and then: „I'm really sorry."

The light turned green and David put in the first gear, driving past souvenir shops with chatting tourists flowing in and out, dressed in gigantic straw hats, airy summer dresses and rich flower necklaces - both real and fake.  
Their good spirit seemed to slip through the car's tiny window gap, because the tension became less unbearable and even the grip on Harry's shoulders loosened.

After turning left at the next crossing, David cleared his throat, long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings trapped in a storm as he glimpsed sideways in Harry's direction.

„Fuck, didn't know you'd go so far for a mouth to mouth resuscitation", he joked and the comment wasn't, as usual, soaked in smugness or sass, no, it was just an attempt to lighten up the mood, a peace offering which Harry accepted and appreciated. 

A crooked smile played on his plump lips and David briefly averted his gaze from the road to look at Harry.

„You alright though, lad?", he asked sincerely, bending over to put his hand on Harry's knee, patting him and Harry, who enjoyed the warmth of the friendly touch, nodded.

And David nodded back, more to himself, and as he removed his hand, Harry was suddenly tremendously aware that those hands have saved him.

Those bronzed, slender and slightly bony hands - smooth yet rough - that have met Harry's skin, and soul, only with kindness so far; and it putted knots in his stomach for assuming that those hands would force him underwater when in reality, they'd pull him out from the darkest depths.

"How does dinner sound?", David then asked, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

„Dinner?"

„Yeah. As a small compensation for the shit I've put you through. It's on me, so you can't decline."

Harry was a bit overwhelmed to be honest, because here he was - sitting in David's way too expensive car, almost drowned and blamed it on his savior who, by chance, was also David and now he asked Harry to dinner. Something went clearly wrong.

„Oh, just say yes, will ya'?", David groaned, a little annoyed by Harry's hesitation.

And so, dinner it was. 


	4. III

How came that Harry's suitcases (yes, he owned two, whereas the second one, bought a few month ago, has been a necessary investment due to all his shopping sprees) were filled with tons of clothes, yet nothing seemed to be the right choice.

Needless to say, his hotel room equalled a battlefield - shirts, jackets, pants, shoes, hats and other garments covered every inch, thrown carelessly on the wooden floor or bed.

And Harry felt stupid for making such a fuss about an outfit, but he'd felt even stupider after he had left David's car.

Dropping him off at the hotel's entrance, after a quite but comfortable drive, David had told him to meet again at 6 pm, insisting to pick Harry up. And after he drove off because of some meetings he had to attend, Harry just stood there - like a tree in the forest, dressed in a wetsuit (which was either bought or stolen), surrounded by glittery white pillars and blooming almond trees, feeling like the biggest jerk of all time.

His angry words still echoed in his head, playing over and over, the unwanted memory pounding mercilessly in synch with the small bump on his head, and all Harry could do was to regret everything he'd said and everything he hadn't said.

So when he entered the lobby; embarrassed and exhausted, as well as determined to thank David properly at dinner; Harry was more than happy to spot Niall at the reception desk, who immediately waved at him.

The reunion was followed by a few drinks, whisky of course, and Niall, whose sunny smile soothed Harry's wounds like balm, did his magic.

Laughing, smiling, joking - the Irish fireball, in combination with the alcohol, numbed Harry's troubles and calmed his nerves.

He told Niall about his accident (or did he actually cry on his shoulder?); sparing out the details about _how_ and with _whom_ ; and Niall - apple cheeks flushed - cracked up in fits of hilarity, and even Harry - cheeks also rosy and a little tipsy - couldn't suppress a chuckle. Because yes - this whole situation was fucking hilarious. And allowing himself to admit his own stupidity made Harry feel a little bit better.

But when Niall proudly reported that he'd actually licked a tree at his hike, Harry couldn't contain his rich lilting laughter which resounded in his half-empty whisky glass.

The day, it was fair to say, started to improve.

After finishing his second drink, Harry took off to get ready for the dinner (it was 5 pm), thanking Niall for his company and getting squeezed in a tight embrace, the warm scent of earth, salt and old note sheets filling his nostrils.

Back in his room, Harry immediately aimed for the bathroom to have a shower (at what he noticed he'd wore the wetsuit at the bar), as well as washing his hair and brushing his teeth to get rid of his faint liquor breath.

And now, he faced the dilemma of putting a decent outfit together while time was running out, so he did what he always did whenever he'd face such a situation - closing his eyes and blindly choose the pieces.

It was actually quite exciting and refreshing to try new things out, combining colors and patterns he normally wouldn't, breaking the fashion rules and creating his own. At long last, Harry was pleased with the end result:

A chocolate-cream-stripped T-shirt tucked in a pair of camel corduroy waist-high flares, paired with one of his favourite jackets (because it highlighted his eyes) - vintage style, dark aquamarine wool-twill, stitched seams and appliquéd patches, which ironically, displayed seaweeds and shells, perfectly matching the day's events.

Should he put the cherry on top by adding his pearl necklace?  
He should.  
And of course, his great collection of rings was not missing, exhibited on strong, artistic hands.

Harry, quickly adjusting the clothes in front of the mirror, had - fully dressed and styled - one less problem to worry about, so he grabbed his phone to sort it out.

„Harry?", his sister picked up at the fourth ring, voice slurred and scratchy, which made him frown. But regardless, he was relieved to have her finally on the phone.

„Hey, how are you?", he asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking the cloud like duvet casually. There was a brief silence, then some rustling, followed by other noises.

„Harry, it's 4 in the morning here..." _Oh, shit._ The time difference. He forgot.

„Shit, I'm sorry, Gemma! I totally forgot." He bit his lower lip. „I'll call you later, okay? Go back to sleep."

„No", she suppressed a yawn, sounding a bit more awake and Harry felt really bad.  
„What is it? Is something wrong?", Gemma asked, there was an alarming undertone now present in her scratchiness.

„No, no. I just wanted to check on you, since you haven't answered me. That's it."

„Oh", Gemma just said, and Harry could hear that she'd probably read his message, but hasn't replied, for what reason whatsoever. He just hoped it wasn't too serious.

And then, there was silence again and Harry just waited.

He listened to his sister's breathing, deep and slow, and it reminded him of their childhood, when little Gemma was too afraid of the dark (because they would watch horror movies in secret) and sneaked into her brother's bed; seeking protection from all the monsters in her closet; copying Harry's calm breathing until she'd escape into the land of dreams.

They always cared for the other. They always had each other's back. And darkness might not scare Gemma anymore, but Harry feared that the monsters had become their reality.

„Are you alright? You know, if there's anything that ma...-"

„Harry, it's nothing", Gemma stopped him from finishing his sentence.  
„It's just, I've been really busy lately", she explained and Harry was skeptical, so he kept quiet for her to go on. Which she hesitantly did.

„I... can't tell you what it is. Not now."

„What do you mean?", Harry insisted and Gemma chuckled, melodic and sweet. It warmed Harry's belly like a freshly baked apple pie.

„You're so stubborn."

„I'm you're brother", he replied with a grin and she chuckled again, and this time, he joined her.  
God, he missed spending time with his sister, even if they were just joking around like kids, it would turn back time to a happy place.

„But seriously, I'm worried, Gemma. Tell me at least that you're fine."

„I'm fine, Harry. I just can't tell you this over the phone. You'll have to wait til next week when you're back, but I promise: it's good news."

He raised his eyebrows. _Good news?_

„Gosh, you're like the Da Vinci Code", he sighed in played frustration, running a hand trough his hair and apropos hair - he still needed to fix his damp, frizzy curls.

„Patience is a virtue, dear brother", Gemma preached, shamelessly yawning into the phone.  
„Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few hours of sleep ahead, and you a swimming course with your dolphins."

He chuckled and shook his head. „I had enough swimming for today. Sleep well. Bye."

„Bye. Love you."

__

The sky, a painted lullaby with lavender blending in rich hues of oranges, crimsons and blues; gently rocked the fiery sun to sleep, as its last golden rays broke through the puffy clouds to kiss David goodnight, who leant against his car while waiting for Harry.

It was shortly before 6 pm when he left the hotel, galloping the few marble stairs down and setting his eyes on David as his feet met the pathway.

Hair voluminous and wild, a few cinnamon strands swayed gently in the evening air as his back was pressed against the passenger door, phone in both hands and fingertips dancing tango on the screen.

To Harry's amazement, there was no cigarette dangling between David's lips, instead, a pair of sunglasses decorated his face, resting low on the tip of his nose.

Somehow, Harry found the sight unexpectedly funny - the way David's focused eyes peeked over the frame on his phone, just like Santa Claus would when children listed their wishes, wiggling in excitement on his lap.  
And if it weren't ridiculous enough - imagining a chubby white bearded David who'd occasionally curse and have a smoke while parents dragged their kids away in disgust - his snoring from last night completed the transformation and Harry, trying to ignore that prankish voice that said ‚o _ld geezer_ ', hid his growing smirk by pinching his lips together.

With half success. _The whisky, Harry. The damn whisky._

David looked up as he heard the approaching footsteps, brushing his fringe to the side and knitting his brows, making Harry flush because fuck - he really tried his best to contain his grin, but David; sunglasses now in one hand; let his judgmental gaze roam over the tall hobby photographer, eyes darting from head to toe and vice versa.

And Harry understood as he took David's outfit in, which was the complete opposite of his broad fashion choice, with the grey skinny jeans, the grey long sleeve shirt, the grey denim jacket and the black vans.

Well, at least they shared the same shoes (even though Harry's were mostly covered by his overflowing flares).

„Is that seaweed?", David asked, inspecting the dark green patch with his nose scrunched, as if it was real, fresh from the ocean and glued on Harry's jacket.

„It is", Harry confirmed, slight amusement vibrating in his baritone voice, the crescendo of a chuckle mingling with the warm, flowery air.

„And you're wearing 50 shades of grey", he returned, hands behind his bent back with his head crooked, waiting in anticipation for David's reaction who just rolled his eyes. And that didn't satisfy Harry, so he tried again. „No handcuffs, Mr. Grey?"

„I though you liked _The Little Mermaid_ ", David mused, the hint of a smirk briefly on display to reward Harry, before he stepped aside to open the passenger door.

„I am open to everything", Harry said and shrugged, the words mindlessly slipping out and it was David's stare - mischief blooming inside two blocks of ice, spiky thorns pricking Harry's senses as he comprehended the double meaning of his poorly chosen words.

But David seemed to quite enjoy Harry's flushed cheeks, rosy like the clouds above their heads, blushing at the warm touch of the sinking sun.

„I know."

Of course. He, the cheekiest bastard on this island (and the whole world, or even universe) had to give the final blow. Of course.

And Harry, not willing to analyze the tone of David's voice, if it either sounded arrogant or regretful, provocative or flirtatious, made a cut and motioned towards the car.

„Where are we going?"

„You'll see."

„That's not an answer."

„Right, right. Now get inside before I'll use my handcuffs."

__

To be honest, Harry did expect some traditional Hawaiian street food - a greasy, delicious treat that gave you an incredible taste sensation while saving some money.  
Something simple. Something for on the go.

But David, who'd keep his lips sealed whenever Harry questioned their destination, had something else in mind. And that, much to Harry's surprise, didn't involve a small budget.

Far away from the downtown's food stalls and somewhere in the heart of Kakaako, Harry found himself within a glamorous foyer - grand staircases and a huge crystal chandelier sparkling below the ceiling, adorning the creamy walls with flickering diamonds and flooding the stone grey polished floor with prismatic light.  
He was so overwhelmed, so consumed by the sparkle, the magic, that he didn't register the hostess to the right of the entrance.

„Good evening", she greeted politely, smiling at the two men.

„Hi, I booked a table for two. It's under the name of...", David replied, stepping closer as he gave his name away, voice muffled like he was talking through a handkerchief, and Harry didn't mind.

He pretended to admire his surroundings further, neck stretched out to view the ceiling's ornaments, oval and petal-like, French Style, encircling the chandelier's canopy, but then, he felt a touch on the small of his back. It was David.

„Wake up", he whispered into his ear, pleased and bantering, and Harry, teared from his trance, flinched like a deer in the headlights as David's hot breath attacked his skin.  
But he pulled himself together, letting David push him gently forward as the uniformed hostess went ahead.

„Please come this way", she said calmly, her heels echoing in the spacious foyer as she guided them to their table and Harry; while passing the never ending creamy walls and entering the restaurant (which was just as gorgeous with the same glossy floor, bright furniture and panorama windows that allowed a breathtaking view of Honolulu's skyline, the Pacific Ocean within reach); regretted his _pick-your-clothes-randomly_ -action, because among these fine dinning guests - red-tinted lips from expensive wine, beautiful bodies wrapped in this year's summer haute couture and glittering jewellery easily overshadowing his pearls.

Harry felt underdressed. Or maybe overdressed. Either way, he was definitely _wrongly_ -dressed.

He waited for them to be seated, at a table on the long patio, to look at David reproachfully.

„You could have warned me", Harry blamed him, eyes playfully narrowed and a slight grin, because he obviously wasn't serious (just a little), but it was enough to make David frown, averting his gaze from the menu.

„What?"

„I mean my outfit. You could have at least told me to dress properly", he explained, grin still plastered on his face as David studied him, unreadable.

„Why?", he simply asked, seemingly not understanding the problem, so Harry handed the issue on a silver platter.

„Let's just say I stand out from the crowd with my seaweed-jacket, which, by the way, you didn't approve of when you saw it."

At that, David's features became even more confused than before and he turned around, facing the panorama windows that shielded off the high society from the outer world.  
Their clinking glasses and alluring chitchat were just a faint noise, swallowed up by the crashing waves and David slowly returned to his previous position, leaning back in his bamboo chair to meet Harry.

„So you'd rather disappear into the crowd."

David didn't ask, he stated. As if it was a fact, a line written somewhere in a book and Harry blinked. _Okay, when did this turn into a philosophy class?_

„If it soothes your insecure ass...", David continued nonetheless, „... I think you breath life into this place, filled with those hollow snobs."

Despite the harsh tone at the end, his voice was warm and honest, and it actually did soothe Harry, because the evening has just begun and he already got a fucking compliment.

„You mean my old, fatty ass?", Harry corrected, smirking, and it made David actually laugh, which was really... nice.

Compared to Niall, his laugh was much lighter, a catchy tune of one's favourite song, familiar and cheery (whereas Niall was loud like a drum set, enjoyable, but loud).

And Harry was eager to hear it again, ready to say some more, when he saw a gallant waiter approaching them.

His name was Devin, a lovely guy, provided them with butter and bread and helped them trough the long beverage menu (which consisted of thousand types of wine - red, white, rosé, sparkling and of course champagne, even sake).

He recommended a bottle of Chardonnay Blanc, Aubert Lauren 2017, and even though David would rather drink a regular beer (Harry could tell by his forced smile), he ordered a bottle, which caused Harry to almost choke on his water.  
Devin, however, nodded and excused himself to get the wine, and Harry took the chance to bent over the table.

„Isn't the price of a bottle like 120$?!", he hissed quietly, but David shrugged.

„180$, actually."

Harry's jaw dropped.

He was at a loss for words, while David was in high spirits, tapping his knuckles against the clothed table, more excited than gloomy to have spent a hefty price for some aged grape juice. He wiggled his eyebrows twice at Harry when Devin came back with the bottle, pouring the exquisite wine into their glasses.

And so, the evening went on.

They had some ahi tuna tartare as appetizer, fruity De Mare and a tender beef filet as the main course, passing the time til the next dish by discussing the flavors (because David was somehow eager to hear Harry's opinion), and they downed all these delicacies with three glasses of that very pricy and very dry chardonnay, but David, who was way too sober to Harry's liking, ordered another bottle of wine - a Pinot Noir this time (as it would perfectly match their upcoming dessert, a chocolate lava cake) and Harry, cheeks warm and belly full, lightly bounced on his stool as he chuckled.

„What are you laughing at?", David insisted, half-smirking. His hooded eyes observing Harry while he flipped his fringe aside, fixing the strands with his hand.

„It's so absurd", Harry said, his gaze lazily wandering around, dimples chisled into his face.

„What?"

„Just being here."

„You don't like it?", David asked, surprised.

„I love it, it's beautiful", Harry corrected, looking at the many city lights in the distance, shining through a deep blanket of midnight blue. The sun was long gone, devoured by the deep ocean, clearing the stage for the moon and its stars to perform the final act - bathing the world in darkness and secrets.

„Then what's the matter?", he tried again, taking a sip of his wine and Harry pursed his lips, dilated pupils focused on the lit candle between them. The small flame flickered in the cool breeze, dancing in the night.

„You despise the people here, these _snobs_ , but still, we're here. Eating dishes cooked by star chefs and drinking the finest wines which you don't even like, don't try to deny it! I know you fancy some beer."

Harry had raised his finger to hush David, but he just grinned, keeping silent, so Harry could carry on.

„It's just, you shouldn't spend so much money for me. I already feel bad for yelling at you, so... I'm really sorry. I mean it. You've saved me and I was acting like a complete idiot."

It was either the candle's flame or the torches by the glass wall that caused Harry's cheeks to catch fire, pulsing heatwaves stinging his skin as David sat there like a statue, his piercing icicles melting in the moonlight, looking at Harry, thinking, unblinking.  
The corner of his mouth just merely twitching.

„I'd say you acted more like a diva. But I'll take it", he said and redeemed Harry from his tension, shoulders visibly relaxing. He smiled and David returned it.

There was a comfortable silence where they both simply enjoyed the essence of the moment, absorbing the atmosphere and each others presence.

And without saying another word, everything was understood. Because yes - David has picked this restaurant for Harry's sake, despite hating the rich and famous and yes - that was the reason he wore a long sleeve shirt and jacket to cover his tattoos, because yes - he tried.

He tried to blend in, he tried to gulp down the bitter wine and he tried to present himself in the best light by not swearing and keeping his playful remarks in bay. He tried so hard to make it right, but to Harry, it felt just wrong.

He thought about their time at the bar - talking, watching football, drinking cheap cocktails, while their eyes would say the unspoken, attraction igniting the air, and all that without having any expectations, without knowing how the night would end.

And that excited Harry.

It kept the blood in his veins running. The possibilities, the fantasies, the thrill. It was the best night of his life.

This night here, however, was a weak imitation of yesterday, a scripted stage-play whose glamorous setting touched the audience's soul, but the actor's halfhearted performance did not. Harry knew it was his fault, because he changed the lines, he misread David's.

„One thing's still bothering me though", David spoke, leaning his forearms on the table and Harry watched as he picked at his fingernails, carefully selecting his next words. Harry's chest tightened, because he already knew what was coming.

„You said I'd ‚ _wanted to teach you a lesson_ '", David recalled.  
„What did you mean by that?" He sounded neutral, a little puzzled, but not resentful, and it helped Harry to keep his head up. Nevertheless, he hesitated.

„It's so stupid, really", Harry began, raising a hand and messing the chestnut swirl on top of his head to readjust it, tousled curls framing his clenching jaw.  
He excepted a comment, a quiet snort, but David just waited and Harry decided to get it over with, before the alcohol in his system lost its magical power.

„I thought you wanted to teach me a lesson because of last night, because we didn't... _you know_... after I've told you... _you know_. I got your hopes up for nothing."

Holy shit, he said it. He actually said it. And it was way more cringy than he'd imagined it. And fuck.

Because David just stared at him.  
Eyes wide and paralyzed, his hands flat on the table, motionless like the napkin in between them and time stood still.

If anybody looked up the definition of _awkward_ , they'd find this moment as an example, for sure. And Harry was so close to jump into the water to cool down (or drown for real this time), when David laughed with all his heart.  
It was clear and loud. Like, really really loud. Niall-level.

He threw his head back, cackling and giggling like a little boy, and the moon seemed to shine brighter at the melody, its silver light illuminating David's face - his cheeks, his lashes, his pearly teeth - everything glowed as he casted out the night's darkness with his joyful laugh.

A few guests turned around, whispering, but David didn't care or didn't notice or didn't give a fuck at all. He was just himself and as simple as that was, it touched Harry's soul more than the crystal chandelier and the luxurious sparkle of the restaurant. It was priceless.

„You're something else, lad. You're something else", David managed to say between fits of giggles, holding one hand in front of his smile to cover it, while the other was clapping on the table's edge.

Harry blushed, fumbling with his rings, his jade eyes darting up to David, who eventually calmed down, though the teasing glint in his expression stayed.

„I told you it was stupid", Harry smiled, feeling relieved.

„Yeah, yeah. That wasn't an understatement", David said and took a sip of his wine.

And again, they just looked at each other, savoring the easiness that warmed the air and sweetened the wine.

Occasionally, David would slightly shake his head at Harry's words that echoed in his mind, and Harry would just know and sheepishly join his silent chuckle.  
The moment was fragile, but strong enough to endure the other guest's stares.

Harry nodded towards them, without breaking eye-contact with David. „ _Snobs_ ", he whispered and David smirked widely in agreement.

„Let's have a real dinner. Just you and me, in a snob-free zone", Harry suggested and David raised an eyebrow. He swayed the wine in his glass, studying the golden flakes that adorned those vibrant jades, and licked his lips.

„You have something in mind?", he asked lowly and Harry cupped his chin in his bejewelled hand, eyes half-lidded and pink lips crooked.

„Maybe."

And it sparked David's curiosity, made him bounce his leg under the table, but before he could demand an answer, their waiter returned with the lava cake.

„Devin, lad. We'll get the dessert to go. Is that alright?", David requested, sugar-sweet smile clashing with his commanding tone and Devin, who held the tray elegantly with white gloved hands, was a little confused, but quickly regained his professionalism.

„Of course", he said, smiling. „Would you like the check then?"

„Yes, please", David confirmed, looking at Harry. Devin nodded and strutted back into the kitchen to get the dessert packed, leaving his two guests behind who rather enjoyed the electrifying atmosphere than the Pinot Noir.

__

They were driving through the night, with their windows down and the radio on, and this time, it was David who was clueless about their destination.

Harry was sticking his arm out the car, fingers spread as he watched the city lights' reflections on his rings, the breeze tingling his bronze skin.

Every now and then, he would give instructions and David followed them, steering casually with one hand.

He whistled to the faint background music while Harry softly hummed, slapping his thigh to the beat.  
It came so naturally, like two fitting puzzle pieces, and they just went with the flow, feeling good, feeling excited, the wine still pumping through their veins, but David suddenly stopped his whistling to snort.

„Can't believe you actually thought I'd drown you because I didn't fuck you", he marveled and guided his cigarette back to his smirking lips. Harry rolled his eyes.

„Not drown, just make me suffer a little."

„Still", David said, shaking his head as he rested his arm out of the window, exhaling into the breeze. „Didn't know I left such an impression."

He glimpsed at Harry who refused to show his grin, so he kept staring at his hand.

„Well, you're really teasing", he pointed out, feeling David's eyes on him and for a while, it was just the radio that filled the silence.

„And you don't like that?"

Harry pulled his arm back to lean into the leather seat, picking non-existent fuzzes off his trousers while he pondered what to say.

„I didn't like it when we were surfing. It irritated me", he confessed. „I was hoping you would... I don't know, be nice to me, but it's just who you are, I guess, and I took it too personally."

Harry shrugged, trying to erase any judgment in his voice, because he didn't want to offend David, but Harry should know by now that he was carved of hard wood.

So David chuckled quietly, more to himself, and took a drag, finding the words more amusing than offending.

„Giving you a free surf lesson, including all the fucking equipment, is not considered ‚nice' in your world?", he mocked, checking the rear mirror and then Harry.

„And calling your student ‚ _fatty_ ' and ‚ _old fart_ ' is not considered ‚teasing' in your world?", Harry shot back, grinning victoriously as David just chewed on his bottom lip, apparently giving in.

„Okay, diva. We're even. Just keep the claws in tonight."

And with that, David turned up the radio's volume, a powerful beat booming through the car's speakers, and they automatically returned to their whistling and clapping, celebrating the here and now as the wind roared and the city buzzed.

__

The road was extremely curvy.

A wall of lush trees and wild plants at each side blocked out any source of light, painting the darkness a shade darker. They drove uphill - left and right, left and right, following the asphalt trail of a snake and David noticed that they aimed for Mount Tantalus.

Throat a little soar from singing too many rock songs, Harry instructed David to park the car when the tree-curtain faded, revealing Honolulu's shrunken city below them - a sea of colorful lights, so many lights, glittering everywhere, golden towers and skyscrapers staggered like cast blocks, touching, melting, reaching for the stars. It was stunning.

David stopped on a hard shoulder, pulling up the handbrake and Harry reached for the packed dessert in the backseat, exiting the vehicle.  
But to David's confusion, he crossed the road, moving away from the breathtaking view to their left and David frowned.

„This is where the action is!", he called, standing by his door and motioning towards the city, watching as Harry ignored him and instead, kept walking.

„I have a better view!", he shouted from the other side, sitting down on grass and letting himself fall back. His eyes, glued to the clear night sky, didn't glance up to David when he stood next to him, hands buried in his jacket's pockets as he looked up.

„Stargazing", David noted.

„Stargazing", Harry confirmed.

A few minutes passed in which he probably contemplated to either stand or joining Harry on the damp grass, but in the end, David chose option two and so, they both laid there, next to each other, on top of Mount Tantalus and at the side of the road, surrounded by darkness while millions of lights twinkled above their stretched out bodies.

It was peaceful, beautiful, and at the same time intimidating.

„You're such a romantic, I knew it", David grumbled lightly, and Harry wondered if the disappointment was real or fake, but the added theatrical sigh left no room for any doubts.

Harry smiled to himself. „Is that bad?"

„No. As long as you keep your red roses and cheesy quotes to yourself, it's perfectly fine", David said, placing his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles, making himself comfortable on the bumpy ground, and Harry could smell the faint smoke in his breath.

„Oh, you mean something like ‚ _My night has become a sunny dawn because of you_ '?"

David groaned in response.

„I warn you. Another stunt like this and I swear, you won't witness the next dawn."

The annoyance was evident and Harry couldn't't help but chuckle at David's aversion for anything romantic-related. Okay, he admitted - quotes were kind of cheesy, but he planned to learn some more, just for the sake to annoy David some more.

„I don't find it romantic though", Harry mumbled, his attention back to the sky.

„Stargazing?", David asked.

„Yeah. It's more disturbing than romantic in my opinion", he whispered, as if the stars could hear him, as if they would all disappear at his words, extinguishing their lights forever.

The rustling noise of fabric told Harry that David had moved on his side to study his profile. „Why disturbing?", he asked irritated.

„Because under that sky of midnight velvet and brilliant stars, I'm nothing", Harry said - quiet, cautious, soft - a secret, wrapped in fine silk, being unwrapped by the delicacy of his voice. Inch by Inch. Word by word. A little sneak peek of his soul. Exposed.

He continued: „If you think about it, these are the same stars that sparkled in the stone age, in antiquity and they will still sparkle in the next few million years. My existence is just a blink of an eye. Over before it even started. A triviality in the universe. And I feel so small, vulnerable and shattered whenever I look up at those stars and they remind me of that. It scares the shit out of me. It does."

Harry paused, lips barely moving as he talked - as if the words took all his strength, feeding off his vigour before they left his body, or maybe they startled him once spoken.

Either way, Harry seemed lost in thought, lost in the stars, lost in a memory and David remained silent, waiting patiently while watching the night sky in those pale green eyes.

„But at the same time, the realisation calms me. Somehow it does, because if I'm trivial, then my problems are as well. All the demons disappear into the shadows of the night, wandering around, letting me sleep, just to be back at the crack of dawn", Harry finished, eyelids heavy as he blinked.

Suddenly, the wind howled like a wolf as a siren went off in the distance, shrill and loud, but neither one of them flinched at the noises, or even noticed them. Because Harry was falling and David was standing at the edge.

„Wow", David huffed, overwhelmed and taken aback. „That was... deep."

Harry laughed the strange atmosphere away and raised his long limps, resting his arms on his knees.

„I'm sorry. I tend to overthink", he apologized, a lazy smile beaming in the hues of dark blues. David sat up as well, crossing his legs and plucking some grass blades.

„We all have our demons, each of us", David mumbled, gaining Harry's attention. „And we have to live with them. Some of us find a way, and some don't."

He titled his head to face Harry, who seemed to hold his breath as he hung on David's every word.

„I'd say you've found the golden middle, Harry."

 _You've found the golden middle, Harry._ He took the sentence and kept it in his memory, treasuring it like a rare antiquity, giving it a special place in his mind and heart.

Because nobody knew.

Nobody knew about the chaotic spider webs in his head whenever he was alone, spinning and spinning, a net with no beginning and no end.  
But David knew now. He knew a little piece and he'd taken one of the many threads and loosened it.  
_You've found the golden middle, Harry._ Yes, he had.

„What about you?", he asked gently, but David knitted his brows. He lowered his gaze again and focused on the grass blades that he ripped out. Silence took over.

„I've reached a dead end."

There was a tiny crack in David's usual confident voice and it hit Harry right in the ribcage. He immediately regretted his question, seeing the discomfort it caused David, the way he'd pressed his lips into a hard line, his hands plucking, and tearing, and ripping the grass blades until there was a small, earthy stain between them.

„Fuck", David then uttered, untangling his legs to stand up, brushing any dirt off. Harry raised his eyes.

„I'm way too sober for this depressing shit." He picked up the untouched white box that contained their chocolate cake and smirked down at Harry.

„It's time for the fun part."

____

Apparently, the ‚ _fun part_ ' required a massive amount of alcohol.

Really, it was a lot.

Like four bottles of beer, two vodka shots and a bottle of tequila - per person. Although, they shared the tequila, but Harry was sure that David drank most of it.

They had left Mount Tantalus after Harry's stargazing turned out to be a flop, so David drove back into town, stopping at a gas station to buy said alcohol, some snacks, and a package of cigarettes.

The radio was blasting again, and David's fingers tapped the steering wheel as he sang along to ‚ _Sweet Dreams_ ', and Harry was laughing so hard, lungs squeaking at his passionate performance, which involved eccentric hand moves and weird faces.

All in all, the mood was thankfully cheerful - and they haven't even touched the clinking bottles in the backseat.

Eight songs later, they'd arrived at the hotel's parking lot and Harry was confused, but David just smirked (that smirk, that teasing teasing smirk), delighted by the wrinkle between his eyebrows. Instead of drinking and eating their purchase in one of their hotel rooms, David decided that the beach was a better choice. And damn, he was right.

The beach was ten times more beautiful at night than in the day.

Everything was dark and mysterious, pitch black silhouettes of towering palm trees swayed in the cool breeze, casting dancing shadows on the caramel sand and the moon - big and bright and full - kissed the ocean, caressing the waves with liquid quicksilver, which again caressed the shore.

It was magical. Pure magical. But Harry was too drunk to fetch his camera to take a photo, the ten minute walk to the hotel would take forever, and by the time he'd be back, the tequila would be all gone.

„Hey! You had enough", Harry complained and snatched the half-empty bottle from David's grip.

He wiped his wet lips clean with his sleeve, watching Harry taking a big gulp and snickered at his grimace, because the alcohol still burnt his throat and intestines.

„That's lava, definitely lava", Harry whined and coughed, pushing the bottle back against David's chest who loudly gasped.

„Lava!", he shouted on cue, but Harry didn't understand. „The lava cake! We still have the fucking cake."

„Oh! Right!"

They both looked expectantly at each other, but despite the tequila in David's right hand, their hands were empty. Harry touched his pockets - back, front, sides, back, front - but he was just met with crackling bags of chips and chocolate bars.

„Where's the cake?!", he asked, a mix of panic and astonishment, eyes almost as big as the palm's coconuts.

„You lost the fucking cake?!", David snarled at him, head jolting forward in disbelief and Harry turned in every direction, trying to spot the white box in the darkness and actually spotted it, laying a few (or more, he couldn't tell) meters away in the sand, lost and forgotten.

„There it is! I've dropped it."

He jogged, and nearly twisted his ankle because his legs wouldn't listen to his brain's orders, and he heard David's laughter behind him, or was he next to him? Because he saw him passing him, aiming for the cake and Harry yelled in protest.

„That's cheating!"

„In which sense is that cheating, huh? You loser!", David returned while flipping him off, practically running now and Harry was eager to kick his ass, so he pulled himself together, forced his limps to work properly and managed to run.

The wind hissed in his ears, his skin sweaty and hot, thick curls bouncing on his shoulders. He was so close, but David, that fucking greyhound, was faster, was one step ahead and he was about to reach the box, when Harry jumped to wrap his arms around him, yanking both of them to the ground.

„What the fuck!", David spat, grains of sand stuck on his left cheek, wiggling like a fish on dry land as Harry's weight squeezed his lungs, but he just giggled - messy strands of hair covering his eyes like a blanket and he blindly sneaked his hands underneath David's grey long sleeve shirt to tickle him. He jolted. „Stop!"

„What's the magic word?", Harry insisted, his fingertips tormenting David's skin with feathery touches and he felt the twitching muscles as he squirmed uncontrollably.

„Fuck you!", he pressed through greeted teeth, trying to contain his own giggles, because he wouldn't give him the satisfaction, and so he reached out for Harry, tickling the crook of his neck, causing him to jump off and squeal.  
His voice was abnormally high, echoing in the night like a birdcall and David bursted into laughter, Harry joining, cheeks plump and pink, clumsy hands holding onto each other as they slowly got up.

Still laughing, still floating in ecstasy, because tomorrow was far away, somewhere beyond the horizon.  
And they were young and free and drunk. So drunk. So so drunk.

„I think I'm gonna throw up", Harry slurred, sweat glistening on his forehead.

„You ‚ _think_ '?", David asked mockingly, because he practically felt his own brain swimming in alcohol, but Harry didn't answer.

There was no need as he bent forward and emptied his stomach contents.

„Oh, shit!", David exclaimed, hopping away from the mess and Harry, once done, groaned in misery. _Young and free. Young and free._

He turned to David, knees wobbly and shaking, the world spinning and he squirmed his eyes to see his face, but David jus stared down at Harry's pool of sick.

„I treat you to a fancy dinner, fucking 3-course menu for fucking 75$ and you spit it out?!"

Harry slammed his hand on his mouth, shocked and stunned. Almost conscience-stricken, he looked at the formerly fruity de mare and something with tuna, soaked in 180$ expensive wine and gastric juice.

„Oops", he mumbled, folding his hands in front of his body, his back hunched as he made himself small, looking like a child with his pouty lips, waiting for his scolding, but David - who either found the situation in general hilarious or Harry's sight - cracked up and let his bum fall on the sand.

He grabbed the box and opened it, loudly thanking Devin for packing two plastic spoons as well and Harry, ignoring his dizziness, softly chuckled.

„Come on, eat some cake. You'll feel better", David promised, patting the spot next to him and Harry sat down, careful not to fall over, and smiled widely when a spoon full of chocolate cake already awaited him.

„You're feeding me?", he murmured, words stretched out like strings of candy and David rolled his eyes at his stupid happy grin.

„You wish", he said, waiting for Harry to take the spoon, but he refused and opened his mouth instead. David snorted, guiding the spoon to his own parted lips and Harry was outraged, clutching David's wrist tightly to keep him in place and eat the cake.

Closing his eyes, Harry moaned in exaggeration at the melting sensation on his tongue, the sweetness absorbing the stunning tequila and any sourness left in his mouth, leaving a heavenly aroma.

„That fucking kid", David just mumbled, briefly smirking before he took a bite as well, enjoying the taste and peaceful silence that cloaked them.

Harry, indeed, felt better after the cake - less dizzy and more conscious. He laid on his back, stretched out like a starfish, with little shells digging into his neck as he watched the stars, lost in his melancholy, while David remained seated, eyeing the ocean. Or the moon.

Their previous laughter was still echoing in the distance, a pleasant lingering sound, occasionally drowned by the gently crashing waves.

David sat on his denim jacket, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, revealing his tattoos and the black ink shimmered like Harry's pearls under the silver moonlight.  
He thought about using his jacket as a pillow, but his limbs were too heavy and his mind too clouded, so he endured the pricking shells - they kept him at least awake.

He wondered if David was still awake though, because he hasn't moved an inch for a while now - just sat there still, arms wrapped around his knees and head up. His body did merely move due to his calm breathing, cinnamon hair ruffled and sandy, the tip of his ears tinted in a rosy glow.

Harry didn't know why, but it made him smile. Did he even need a reason to smile?

He placed his hands on his stomach, playing with the rings on his fingers and the rustling noise made David turn his head, blue eyes curiously peeking over his shoulder.

„Do you have a ring fetish?", he asked, voice a little rough and Harry slightly flinched, glancing at David.

„I've never seen a man...", he began but paused, thinking, „... or woman wearing so many rings."

Harry smiled fondly at his jewellery, fingers elongated and spread to appreciate each ring individually, their shapes and stones so familiar, so special, that his hands felt naked, defenceless every time he'd take them off.

„Each ring is a memory", Harry told, words still delayed due to his fading intoxication, but vocalized clearly and tenderly.

He pointed at his pinky that wore a big, chunky gold ring, square ruby stone flame red and glowing in the dark - like the devil's eye lurking in the night.

„From Moscow. And this one..." , he moved his middle finger, which was adorned with a rose-shaped silver ring, „... is from France."

David seemed mesmerized, his gaze following Harry's movements and focused on his index finger. „Italy", he revealed at a plain rose-gold one. And then he continued at his left hand, from thumb to ring finger: „Brazil, Chile, Japan and Thailand."

David whistled, impressed.

„Not bad. So you've got half of the world on your hands", he stated, taking a sip of the tequila.

To Harry's amazement, David didn't seem too drunk, maybe tipsy, yes, but his eyes were as piercing as ever, bluish grey stormy skies that whipped Harry like heavy rain.

„I thought ordinary souvenirs were too boring", he explained.

„So you're traveling around the world?"

„Yes", Harry breathed, his hands gliding back to his sides, burying into the powdery sand. David kept quiet, and Harry watched the stars above his head again, feeling his demons drifting away.

„But what if all ten fingers are coated? You got a plan B?" Harry grinned at the question, feeling un-fucking-believablely smart and he heaved himself up, his rusty bones and stony muscles resisting, even gravity worked against him, but he wanted to see David's reaction.

„Tattoos", Harry said, grinning from ear to ear, his dimples large.

And his effort paid off as David half smirked, half chuckled, tip of his tongue peeking through his teeth, like yesterday at the balcony, and it warmed Harry's insides and pushed the night a little closer to dawn.

„I like that. Really nice. Really, really nice, lad", David nodded and finished the tequila off, his Adam's apple twitching as the liquor ran down his throat, and Harry had the sudden urge to kiss him.

Just to see if the gold tequila would taste any different on his lips, if the saltiness of his skin would change the flavor, if it'd be more sweet, sweeter than the chocolate cake and more exquisite than the Chardonnay.

He'd compare it to any food he'd ever eaten, to any drink he'd ever drunken, just to never stop tasting those lips.

„Spend the days with me, David", Harry pleaded.

He wasn't thinking twice, nor straight, but it made perfectly sense to him. That's what he wanted. Since their first encounter at the bar. David. He wanted David.

But David seemed to miss the logic behind Harry's words, because he wore a puzzled expression.

„Harry..."

„Until Friday! You said you'd stay here until Friday, today is Wednesday. So let's spend the time together, do whatever we please. You won't fuck me, that's fine, I get it, but we could just hang out, you know? Exploring the city, doing hikes, go surfing... I promise I won't make a scene again", Harry rambled, but paused to cross his fingers, making David quietly snort.

„Or get drunk on the beach at night. Whatever it is... I'd like to do those things with you."  
_Oh, god, was that cheesy? Was the alcohol unleashing his inner Romeo?_ Maybe. Probably.

David snickered and shook his head.

„You always have to rub it in, the fact that I didn't fuck you. Really bothers you, innit?"

Harry smiled, shrugging. „I bear grudges."

„I can see that."

„So?", Harry asked hopefully.

David hesitated, fumbling with the empty bottle, twisting it into the sand and the crunching noise rubbed on Harry's nerves.

„Just two days", he tried to persuade him and David stopped, body still, but eyes darting everywhere expect Harry's direction. He looked torn.

„On one condition", David eventually said and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

„We won't share any private information. Work, family, full name... those are red flags. We will spend the time together until Friday, and then, we're strangers again. No contacting or trying to find each other. Understood?"

David was serious and normally, his condition would irritate Harry, sober-Harry - but Harry wasn't sober right now.  
He was still drunk, drunk and happy, more than happy, he was over the moon and over the sun and basically over every single planet of the solar system.

„Deal!", he agreed and they shook hands, like real businessmen, and Harry didn't care about the small print, not yet, because all that mattered where those two days.

Two days with David. _Yes, yes, yes._

Oh, he would embrace the world if he could. And he did - placing both hands on his chest, one over the other, feeling the weight of his rings and lowering his head, cheek lightly touching the cool metal. Harry smiled.

Suddenly, something hit his shoulder and he opened his eyes (when did he close them?), looking at a half-naked David who was just pulling down his jeans.

„What are you doing?", Harry wondered, blinking in confusion.

„We're going into the water." _We?_

„Two days aren't much. We should make the most of it. Or did you ever take a swim under the moonlight?", David inquired, quirking an eyebrow and throwing his jeans against Harry's baffled face to get him out of his trance. Which worked.

Harry took off his clothes, so forceful and fast that he caught up with David, who was pulling at his socks, laughing at his eagerness.

They sprinted towards the ocean, naked, only inked pieces of art gracing their bodies as freedom gave them wings. The night was young and so were they.

Splashes of water exploded into the air, wetting their faces and hair, blurry their vision, but they kept running, kept laughing, until the increasing resistance stopped their movements, bodies now floating in a pool of black ink, saturating their tattoos, shaking their emotions.

The moon was within reach, threatening to fall on their heads and Harry was overwhelmed - by the beauty, by the simplicity, by his liveness.

And then a scream cut through that magical moment, vibrating on Harry's skin and he looked at David, smiling, his chin above the surface and his eyes - blue flames flickering, lighting the night air - were wide awake, open to the world and its secrets.

Another scream.

Harry was shaking, excited, ignited.

He took a deep breath, diving into the water, into a different world - where gravity faded to nothing, a deep blue void dissolving thoughts that were never his, with no air or sound, just endlessness, diffusing light caressing his skin.

He emerged, gasping, hair sleek and tracing the outlines of his neck, shoulders and back.

„I'm gay!", Harry shouted into the night. He turned around and spotted David, swimming towards the horizon, his eyes finding his, thrilled.

_Young and free._

„I'm gay!", he screamed, louder.

_Young and free._

And he screamed it to the moon and the moon accepted it - millions of stars sparkled in excitement and Harry, engulfed by the dark ocean, welcomed the world with open arms and smiled, because he, who was nothing under a sky of midnight velvet and brilliant stars, has never felt so alive as in this moment.


	5. IV

When Harry woke up the next morning, he noticed three things right away: the too bright rays of sunshine that burnt his closed eyelids, the jackhammer trapped inside his skull that caused him a throbbing headache (no more alcohol!) and last but not least - most importantly - the fact that he was _alone_ in his king-size bed.

He rolled on his stomach and groaned, because every single muscle was aching, and wrapped his tired arms around the pillow to bury his face into it.  
The softness and darkness eased the pain a little, and without any source of light taunting him, he tried to remember the details of last night.

_Was it all a dream?_

There were tiny fragments ghosting in his head, pictures of him and David on the beach, at night, with the full moon hanging low, swimming and shouting as the ocean waves broke his chains.

A small smile was pressed against the pillowcase at the memory - the intoxicating feeling which no hard liquor could ever spark, was still deep in his bones, vibrating, flourishing, and it almost numbed the hangover, because fuck - Harry had never felt so free, so _like himself_ and kind of newborn.

However, he was still in this weird state of mind, this grey zone where dreams and reality collided and blended, where you're physically awake, but not mentally - so he wasn't sure if these so-called memories of David were real or not...

Like when he nearly knocked him over as they ran back to their clothes; skin dripping wet and glistening in the moonlight; laughing wickedly at Harry's indignantly face after he smacked his bum.

Or when he slid his arm under Harry's shoulder, because Harry was stumbling and half-drunk, teasing him for putting his trousers on - backwards, but Harry just giggled, skin too hot and life too good to bother, and together, they made their way back to the hotel, tripping here and there, chuckling about this and that, until they reached the lift and David insisted (or did he demand?) on escorting Harry to his room.

And Harry - tipsy, simpering, free and in-David's-arms Harry - was in no position to decline, so he eventually made it to his bed that night, safe and sound. And alone.

Because somehow, somewhere in the corner of his mind and veiled in smoke and starlights, was the faint memory, or imagination, of cold lips brushing his heated neck - or maybe it was just a puff of air when David closed the door, leaving Harry to sleep it off, with his curls damp and dimples stretched as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Either way, Harry couldn't care less for now, because all that mattered was to get some water for his dry, itchy, burning throat, so he forced his heavy limps to get up, sitting on the bed's edge as he reached for the desired bottle on the nightstand, when something caught his attention.

A package of aspirin.

Which did not belong to him.

But it was the folded paper next to it that deepened Harry's frown.  
And so he grabbed it.  
And he read it.  
And his face lit up, shining like the bluest sky after a thunderstorm.  
And then he read it again.

_‚Meet me at 2 pm in front of the hotel._  
_Take your camera._  
_Wear proper shoes._

_P.S.: I left painkillers in case you need them (and I'm very sure you do)._  
_So kiss my ass later.'_

No greeting, no name. Just bossy orders, straight to the point, sass seeping in between the lines. But Harry just smiled - wide and bright and competing with the morning sun, because it wasn't a dream.

Because there it was, on paper, written in bubbly small letters, the proof that last night's events were true, that every second spent on the shadow-flooded beach, under a diamond rich midnight-velvet sky, happened exactly the way Harry had remembered them - including his fragmentary memories afterwards.

No dreams. No imaginations.  
Just reality.

A rose-tinted reality that promised two glorious days with David, filled with beautiful sunsets and Hawaii's heavenly landscapes as a breathtaking scenery. Two days to admire the tropical paradise and those ocean eyes.

Harry was beaming, excited and perfectly happy, despite the relentless pounding headache.

He took a pill and a generous swig from the water bottle, feeling somewhat human again.

His footsteps, he noticed as he made his way to the balcony, were very sluggish, feet almost dragging across the floor like he'd just awoken from a long lasting coma, which, considering it was already past 10 am (he checked his watch on the nightstand, which David must have put there as well) - seemed like one.

The morning air was warmish and refreshing, caressing Harry's sweaty skin and sneaking into his room, blowing the feather-light curtains in doing so.

He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, because the sun was still unbearably blinding, when he realized that he had missed breakfast. A half-heartedly sigh escaped his lips.

Well, the nice little café down the street it was then.

So he freshened up, took a quick shower, dressed up and thanks to the fast-acting painkiller, he even managed to clean his room by collecting his scattered clothes (he did definitely make a fuss yesterday).

And while he put his stuff back in the suitcases, did that small voice in the back of his mind (which was probably his sanity) bother him?

The one that reminded him repeatedly - like a broken record - of David's condition, that sharing private information was a red flag and therefore, this whole agreement was just a nice time killer until his departure?

No responsibilities, no attachments. Just fun and good company, maybe a blowjob here and there to make the most of Hawaii's long nights?

No, not at all.

Because Harry ignored it. Ignored the tiny shadow among his bright, perfect world, pretended it was not there, lurking in the corner, waiting to attack as soon as the sun died down.

Luckily, his phone vibrated and Harry was more than grateful for some distraction.  
Pushing his thoughts aside, he pulled the device out of his back pocket and was greeted by a missed called of his mother, followed by a message that said:

‚ _I hope you're having a wonderful time, honey. Sorry to bother you, but please give me a call as soon as you've landed in London, okay? Can't wait to see you. I love you so much.'_

Harry stared at the screen for a while to let the text sink in, before he replied.

_‚Of course. I'll be back Tuesday. Do you wanna talk now?'_

_‚No, honey. It's alright. Have fun! See you next week'_ she immediately answered and went offline, leaving her son a little puzzled.

The urgency in her words was hard to miss and Harry wondered what was going on in London, inside their luxurious 11-bedroom house with the oh so needed cocktail bar and home cinema.

He hoped it had nothing to do with his father, but then again, this man was the origin of fucking evil, piling up problems after problems, like shit attracted flies.  
Destroying instead of caring, judging instead of listening and taking instead of giving - he embodied every bad characteristic the human race could offer.  
Needless to say, Harry despised him.

And he highly doubted that the secrecy of his mother _and_ sister were a coincidence.

But Gemma talked about ‚good news', so was it possible that for once, destiny decided to turn everything to the better?

Speaking of Gemma, there was an unread message. Sent yesterday.  
To Harry's surprise, it wasn't a text, but a photo.

A selfie of her and Liam, sitting by a large window that displayed London's busy Oxford Street, while each of them held a cup of coffee. It was at their favourite cafe, Harry noticed, and he flashed a smile at his sister's and Liam's pout, eyebrows knitted in exaggerated sorrow.

 _‚Coffee here just tastes bitter without you.' s_ he wrote and it was sweet, really sweet, even though it stung his heart a little.

Back in the school days, they always used to stop by at that cafe, just the three of them, sipping hot steaming cocoa while discussing their latest test, Gemma eagerly trying to convince Harry that ‚C' was the right answer instead of ‚A', and Liam would watch them fondly, enjoying his drink and eventually telling a joke to lighten the mood, making them all chuckle into their mugs.

Winter time was the best time though.

It made the cafe so much cosier. The smell of gingerbread and cinnamon soothing the warm atmosphere, flushed cheeks everywhere as the cold shivers melted away, freezing fingers wrapped around hot, white porcelain and Christmas songs softly playing in the background.

Harry enjoyed the season, enjoyed the sight of the twinkling light decorations above Oxford Street while sitting at the window, Liam by his side and Gemma across the table.

There was no particular reason why they'd chosen this cafe. It wasn't because the beverages were extraordinary good or the muffins were remarkably fluffier than the others, no.

Naturally, it had become their spot, their little getaway from everyday life, a pleasant routine that sweetened their days.  
It was just the three of them, wether it was spring, summer, autumn or winter.

Always, until Liam moved away.

And without saying a word, Harry and Gemma stopped visiting the cafe after a Saturday in summer.

With Liam missing, it wasn't the same; deep down they knew it was simply wrong; the lively chitchats seemed so dull and the cocoa plain bland.

So when Liam came back, four years later, the first thing they did was, of course, to liven up their tradition - only the cocoa being replaced by coffee, because they were adults.

And even though they were older, more mature and wiser, the second they had entered the cafe and found the familiar table by the window, time had been magically turned back.

Same jokes, same intimacy, same friendship.

Nothing had changed, not even four years could take their special bond away and Harry, smiling from ear to ear as he listened to Liam recalling life in Leeds, felt incredibly relieved.

And yeah, maybe he looked at him with glazed eyes, maybe he had been close to shedding a tear, but who could blame him.

Even Gemma had grabbed her brother's hand underneath the table, equally overwhelmed by her emotions like Harry, and Harry, whose insides were warm and fuzzy, squeezed her hand gently - confirming that this was not a dream.

And as he stood there with his phone in hands, seeing both their faces at this very special place, Harry couldn't help but feel touched.

He took a closer look and noticed that Gemma didn't change at all. Same big doe-eyes, framed by shiny, long chocolate hair that ran down her vanilla neck, falling in curls at the ends. Even her pouty lips wore the same nude lip gloss. One year didn't left its marks on her - unlike Liam.

He looked skinnier these days, his cheekbones chiseled and sharp under the cafe's spotlights, clean shaved and hair a bit longer, forming soft mocha waves at the roots.  
The grey knit jumper wrapped his long limbs like a blanket, sleeves rolled up in puffy wrinkles, making his underarms look almost delicate.

Did he start working out again?

Harry's eyes darted back and forth between their faces, smiling, happy that they got each other, smiling wider at the thought of hugging and kissing them next week. Back and forth, back and forth, and then his smile vanished.

Suddenly, it clicked.

Gemma and Liam. Good news.  
Couldn't tell Harry until he was back home. His mother calling.

Something clicked, and it terrified Harry more than anything.

Was Gemma pregnant? From Liam? His best mate?

Harry's heart dropped.  
No, that was too farfetched, wasn't it?  
Gemma, his beloved sister, pregnant from Liam, his childhood friend, his close-like-a-brother friend.

 _Oh, shit. Oh, fuck_.

The longer he thought about it, the more anxious he became, because fuck - how was he supposed to handle this?

He accidentally stepped on a dozen mines and every single one of them blew up, exploding with a loud bang, hitting Harry with questions he didn't want to think about and the impact was so huge, so powerful that he lost his grip, so he sat down on the bed.

If his sister was really pregnant - theoretically - had it been an accident or was it planned? Were Gemma and Liam in a relationship? Behind Harry's back? Or was it a one-night-stand with consequences? A moment of weakness? Perhaps love? Yes? No?  
Harry's mind was spinning.

 _Good news. Good news_.

She wouldn't phrase it like that if it had been a mistake. But what else would she imply by saying _good news_?

Right now, it seemed like the only explanation, because Harry, out of the blue, remembered their car drive to Heathrow airport, remembered the silence, the tense atmosphere and it struck him like lightning:

Maybe _he_ wasn't the reason, wasn't the reason why Gemma and Liam exchanged gloomy gazes, why they nervously fumbled with their hands, why they pressed their lips into thin lines.

Were they contemplating telling Harry before he left?

No, no, no.  
He obsessed about something that was just a vague assumption. A pipe dream, nothing more. His mind was playing tricks on him, the remaining tequila in his blood caused hallucinations and Harry needed some food to think properly, yes, just some nutritions for his brain to sort this out logically.

So he glanced one last time at the photo, their closeness putting knots in his stomach, but Harry shrugged it off as a feeling of hunger, before he grabbed his wallet and went outside.

__

Niall was his fucking lifesaver.

It was 10:30 am when Harry entered the lobby, his phone painfully present in his back pocket while an image of a pregnant Gemma was still haunting him, so much, that he didn't saw the Irishman chilling in one of the mint cushioned armchairs.

„Harry!", he called, throwing a magazine on the coffee table, and Harry stopped in his tracks, a little startled as he spotted Niall and dear god - where was all this energy coming from?

He strode towards him, every step strong and dynamic in his light blue denim, as if he'd freshly emerged from the fountain of youth, with honey skin glowing and perfect teeth shining through his open smile, matching the crisp white button v-neck-shirt. His positive aura could easily fill a whole room.

„Niall", Harry replied quickly before he was pressed against the man's chest, zesty notes of grapefruit and musk filling his nose, as roaring laughter filled his ears.

„Good to see you, mate!", Niall said and patted his back, letting go but leaving one hand on his shoulder.

„Our paths cross quite much, but I ain't complaining." He squeezed his shoulder then, grin oozing charm and rays of sunshine captured in his sky blue topaz.

Harry nodded, smile crooked.

„I don't mind either." And that was the truth, because Niall was among the last of a dying breed of good-hearted people. Those who welcomed the world with open arms without expecting anything in return.

„Excellent, excellent. So what's the plan for today?", he asked, eyeing Harry from head to toe, grinning. „No wetsuit today?"

Harry shook his head and hid his face behind both hands, pretending to be utterly embarrassed, which made Niall chuckle while he swayed in his peach chucks.

„Wild night?", he guessed then and Harry didn't miss the smugness in his sunny features, lips pursed.

And fuck, was it still so obvious?

Last time he checked the mirror, his face didn't look too bad, the bags under his eyes barley swollen, the line between his brows not too deep and his cheeks a healthy pinkish. All in all, he successfully survived the hangover.

„Not really", Harry shrugged, his mouth twitching as he fought a smile at the memory. „But I missed breakfast, so I'm on my way to the cafe down the street."

„Perfect! I'll join you", Niall beamed, walking next to Harry as they aimed for the hotel's door, the porter outside nodding his greeting to the men.

The marble steps were dazzling under the bright sun, so Harry put on his sunglasses, admiring the cloudless sky and the blooming large Gold trees by the pillars, clusters rocking in the breeze as yellow petals drifted through the area, coating the pebbles.

It was yet another beautiful day.

„You missed breakfast as well?", Harry wondered, passing the gate and stepping on the pavement. The air was sticky and dripping syrup from all the fragrant flowers, happy humming bees passing his ears.

„No", he said and Harry knitted his eyebrows (and there was the line again). „Aren't you full?"

„There's always room for a second breekie." Niall rubbed his belly for demonstration, all confident and excited for his meal. Right. He almost forgot - that bundle of energy did not only talk a lot, but also eat a lot.

__

Somehow, Harry ended up on a golf course.

And saying that he felt out of place was honestly an understatement, wether Niall on the other hand seemed to be in his element, swinging the golf club like a pro and sending the ball flying across the mowed field.

They had a lovely breakfast prior, sitting on vintage folding chairs and under a sunshade, as the waitress served them their order - a fruit plate, some French toast and omelettes.

To Harry's surprise, Niall didn't order half of the menu, assuming he already ate enough at the hotel.

And as they enjoyed their food and coffee while chatting about trivial things (Niall rated Honolulu's restaurants based of taste, service and ambience, and compared the top three to London's top three, „The spices are amazing! Fresh, exotic, strong - fucking exploding in your mouth.", „But nothing can beat good old fish and chips."), Harry was tempted to ask why he spent time with him, because wasn't Niall having breakfast with a friend the other day?

But the question never left Harry's lips, not intending to come across as rude or annoyed, so he kept listening to Niall, occasionally adding his favourite restaurants to the ranking list and glancing at his phone.

Niall noticed.

„You have a date?", he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and Harry almost chocked on his lukewarm coffee. Almost, thank god.

He ran a hand through his hair, brushing the long curls aside to cover up his mild coughing. Truth was, Gemma and Liam were still on his mind, blocking out his... well, what exactly should he call it? A date? An appointment with David?

„Kind of", Harry said hesitantly. „I have to be back by 2 o'clock."

Niall's piercing eyes peeked over the rim of his cup as he took a sip. „So you had fun last night?"

„What do you mean?"

„Sex", Niall answered, quick like a shot, crossing his arms on the table to lean forward.  
His sunburnt nose had a deep shade of red in the shadows, a high contrast to his ice-blue eyes.

Harry blinked, taken aback, his blush probably surpassing Niall's sunburn.

„It's not like that...", he said, chewing on his last bite of French toast and prayed that his Irish companion would drop the topic, but god was currently on break.

„Interesting", Niall commented, putting a finger against his lips and resembling a thoughtful professor who studied an equation, which was called ‚Harry' by chance.

„I mean, I don't judge you, mate. That's what holidays are for: to have fun, and Hawaii has beautiful weather, even more beautiful beaches and the most beautiful people."

Harry played with his rings.

„Sounds like _you_ had some fun", he mumbled and Niall laughed out loud. Was the window next to them vibrating? Maybe. But it definitely caught some attention for sure, a few people turning their heads. _Hello_ _deja vu_.

When he fell silent again, the wrinkles around his eyes smoothed out, Niall looked somewhat serious despite his cheerful smile. He scratched his elbow and cleared his throat.

„It's just... something seems to bother you, I can tell. So if you wanna talk about it, I'm all ears", he offered, snipping his fingers to Harry as he winked. „No judgement, baby."

And Harry; who realized that he had nobody to talk to, no friends or family (as they were involved), not even David, because the topic would be considered a ‚ _red flag_ '; took the offer in his despair (and to be fair - good-hearted Niall didn't seem like a bad choice).

So they paid for their meals, Niall generously tipping the pretty waitress, before both of them walked down the street with their sunglasses on.

„Don't worry. I know the perfect place to take your mind off", Niall promised, bouncing ahead while he whistled a joyful melody, the birds enthusiastically joining in, and Harry - clouded by Niall's lively shadow - just smiled as he followed him.

Never, not even in his dreams, would he have thought that Niall associated ‚ _the perfect place_ ' with a fucking golf course. A golf course.

And why was there even a golf course in the middle of the city, right among Waikiki Beach and Diamond Head?

But Niall turned out to be a passionate (and incredibly skilled) golf player, Harry learned.  
He already putted the ball ten times (out of eighteen holes) and currently, he was about to aim for the eleventh hole, preparing his stroke as they stood between two lanky palm trees - which, to Harry's disfavour - didn't spend much shelter from the burning sun.

The temperature has noticeably risen, was probably 30°c, and Harry regretted choosing a black shirt this morning. He unbuttoned it half way, his chest glistening, kissed golden through the sunscreen like the rest of his body, and Niall caught a glimpse.

„Nice birds", he said to the two swallows that decorated his chest, facing each other right beneath the collar bones. Harry looked down at his tattoo. „Thanks."

„You got quite the collection", Niall continued and winded up, swinging his club in a swift movement and striking the ball, a sharp noise cutting the thick air, and while Niall was busy admiring his shot, Harry admired his inked arms.

The holy bible, a mermaid, a rose, an eagle and the words ‚I can't change' were immortalised on his skin, all designed by different artists in different countries.

„Yeah, never thought I'd be one of those tattooed guys to be honest", Harry confessed, carrying the rented equipment, a bag filled with at least ten different golf clubs, as Niall headed to the ball, because Harry rather played his assistance than making a fool of himself by missing the ball and hitting his head instead. Plus, any extra physical activity would be his death in this obnoxious heat.

Niall laughed quietly under his breath, curled copper wires sticking on his sweaty forehead, his once voluminous hair slumped down and his white shirt looking damp. However, he was still in very good spirits - 50°c or not.

„Huh? I guess you've tasted blood after the first one and couldn't stop from there. Speaking of blood, did it bleed?"

„A little. The bigger ones tend to, because they're more time consuming."

„Damn", Niall uttered, switching his golf club. "You're a tough guy."

Harry frowned at that, tip of his foot drawing circles on the dry grass, the words weighing on his shoulders.

„No, not really", he mumbled lowly and Niall titled his head, twisting the lengthy club in his gloved hands.

He took advantage of Harry's abstraction, carefully examining his posture - the hanging shoulders, the tense jaw, the supposedly blank jades behind those oversized shades - before he focused again on the ball at his feet.

„So tell me...", Niall said, voice clear and bold, like a captain navigating his ship and crew through stormy waves, tearing Harry from his thoughts.  
„What's on your mind, my troubled friend?"

 _A lot_ , Harry wanted to say, wanted to pour out his heart, to rip his chest open for his inner demons to melt into thin air.

Starting with his fucked up, selfish father, followed by his best mates' inexplicable mood swings and outbursts, who - maybe, maybe not - had impregnated his sister; to his latest concerns regarding a non-stop smirking, non-stop smoking man whose blue eyes did things to Harry he'd never ever felt before while he clearly refused a possible relationship.

So yeah, that were _his_ top three.

„What would you do... if your best mate did something that would change everything?"

Niall frowned while swinging the golf, movements slightly slowed down and Harry knew that he was probably confused, but he decided to not share too many details.

„Like what?"

„I don't know. Something that would change your friendship forever."

„Are we speaking a different language or are you just talking nonsense?", Niall chuckled and Harry half-smiled, trying again.

„So, let's say he's done something behind your back. And he tells you about it when it's too late, because that _something_ is irreversible (god that sounded so wrong). And he did it with someone else."

Suddenly, Niall aborted his stroke, the club abruptly coming to a halt next to the ball and he turned to Harry.

„What?", he asked and took off his sunglasses, revealing blazing topazes that pierced right through the long-haired Brit.

Taking a few steps forward, grass cracking underneath his chucks, he studied Harry's face intensely, precisely, as if he'd seek something only Harry owned.

„What did he do?", Niall almost whispered and Harry stared back, brows creased. _What?_

There was a weird silence, oppressive, kind of helpless.

Harry couldn't tell him, couldn't free the lion from its cage, because it would mangle his heart. Just the said aloud theory of Gemma carrying Liam's child, his potential nephew (fuck), would become too real.

„Harry", he urged, placing both hands on his shoulders, the golf club carelessly falling to the ground, but Harry was too perplexed, words stuck in his throat while his brain tried to catch up.

„I don't know", he managed to say. „I don't know what he did. And I don't know what to do."

„You don't know?" Niall seemed surprised, his grip loosening until his hands let go of Harry, whose skin felt oddly chilly without the blazing hot palms.

They shared another look in silence, two, three seconds passed when Niall averted his eyes, watching the other golf players in the distance.  
His smile was long gone, and it had an unsettling effect on Harry, making him painfully aware of the seriousness of his issue. Of his fucking life.

He shook his head, even though Niall couldn't see it.

„What would _you_ do?", he asked meekly, the words reluctantly formed and spoken. He needed advice, a guiding light that showed him a way out of his chaotic spiderwebs made of doubts.

Niall sighed as he faced Harry again, all of a sudden tired and five years aged, energy drained.

„I would talk to him." Straight, clear and the answer Harry knew, but feared to admit. Niall was right - and about to go?

He put the club in the golf bag and swung it over his shoulder, brushing his sweaty hair aside.

„You haven't finished your game", Harry stated dumbfounded, but Niall ignored him and picked up the ball.

„What time is it?", he asked instead and Harry frowned, checking his phone nonetheless.

„It's 1:15 pm."

„You should head back to the hotel. I have someone to meet, sorry, mate. I forgot about it", he apologized and there it was - that cheerful, alluring smile that could lighten up a dark room, ease any pain and dry any tears; the kind of smile everybody would kill for, or die for.

A little caught off-guard, Harry nodded.

„It's alright", he said, not sure what to do as he awkwardly stood there, while Niall checked the equipment, busy bee, but he eventually noticed Harry's uncertainty, so he gave his upper arm a gentle nudge.

„Don't worry, I'll take care of this. Go ahead. I'm sure we'll see each other sooner or later."

Winking like the charming boy he was, Niall offered one last grin before he rushed to the building, leaving Harry behind who felt more stirred up than he did before.

Burying his ring rich hands in the pockets of his creamy trousers, floaty fabric enhancing his silhouette and gold cross sparkling between the two inked swallows, Harry returned to the hotel, thinking about what Niall said.

_What did he do?_

The way his expression has changed, so silently shocked and eyes wide, Harry wondered if he talked about someone else?  
But that didn't make sense. Maybe Niall was more insightful than he had assumed, a man with a big mouth and a big heart, emphatic in many ways?

_What did he do?_

_He_? Liam? Fuck, he had no fucking clue and his stupid brain wouldn't stop replaying the words.  
They spun in his head, over and over, keeping Harry company during his march to the hotel, and when he finally passed the snowy pillars, he came to a conclusion:

Once back in London, in a specific cafe at Oxford Street, sitting by a specific window and holding a cup of coffee in his hands, Harry would confront Liam and Gemma.

Or the other way.

Things needed to be cleared, a lot of questions to be answered, but right now, the only question that Harry wanted to devote himself to was ‚ _What the heck am I going to wear for my date?_ '

__

It was 2:20 pm, twenty minutes passed the arranged time, and David hasn't picked him up yet.  
Thirty minutes.  
F

orty minutes.

Still no sign, and Harry was frustrated, but more than anything, hurt.

He was sitting on a rock, under one of the huge Gold trees whose dense flowers blocked out the sun, watching people as they either got into, or out of various cars, all swanky and worth a single-family house, but none of them was David's.

Even though he was aware that something might delay him - a meeting, traffic - Harry felt rejected, because waiting for someone who most likely wasn't going to show up did suck. It fucking sucked.

And still, here he was, looking like a lost sheep, with his camera bag embracing his torso, ready to explore the island.  
Even the porter has noticed his misery, giving Harry a pitiful glance here and there whenever he served some guests, and that was the final straw.

After forty-five minutes of false hopes, Harry stood up, tapping off the petals from his clothes (a silk shirt with pleated, ruffled sleeves, daisy white, transparent at the chest and arms, perfectly displaying his tattoos, as well as black, knee-length shorts and matching black sneakers), strolling slowly towards the hotel's entrance, legs a little stiff.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a silver car approaching, followed by a black one, and just in time and rather casually, he turned his head to spot David behind the wheel.

David, wearing sunglasses, and driving straight on to the parking lot without even bothering looking around for Harry. _What the fuck?_

So Harry waited, again, for this arrogant son of a bitch to come, because fuck it, one more minute wouldn't matter.

He walked back to his previous spot, arms crossed as David appeared shortly afterwards, sunglasses gone and cigarette in his hand, taking a few puffs and looking ridiculously good in doing so.

His outfit was simple and chic - black pants combined with a knit polo, blue brown retro pattern, from fucking Prada, the three buttons of his black collar undone and showing some inked, smooth skin. And no, Harry wasn't drooling.

David seemed in a hurry, his fluffy mob of cinnamon hair messy, spiky strands pointing in all directions and his cheeks flushed.  
He paced towards Harry, totally oblivious to his presence, too busy to rummage around in his pocket, when he raised his eyes and stopped.  
_Astonished_ \- that was the right term to describe his expression.

„Did you forget?", Harry asked directly, voice surprisingly calm and somehow, his anger has vanished.

He wasn't in the mood for a fight, not now, not with all the other shit that was going on in the back of his mind. Despite, Harry had never been one to bear grudges.

„I thought you'd be gone by now", David simply said, taking a long, hasty drag as his eyes roamed Harry.

He exhaled the smoke, grey clouds shifting like ghosts in the air, disguising his gaze and then, he started to walk again.

„Sorry, lad. Something came up."

That being said, he passed Harry, didn't pay any further attention to him, was basically done with it and Harry, who blinked in utter bewilderment, followed David to the entrance.

„That's it? You ditch me?"

Okay, now his emotions might get the better of him - with good reason though.

However, the man from Doncaster didn't even turn around after pausing at the marble steps, filling his lungs with more smoke, fidgeting on the spot.

„Give me a second", David almost growled while he dropped his cigarette, crushing it under his shoe sole, and Harry snapped.

„I already gave you forty-five minutes."

Maybe it was the blame in his voice that awoke his guilty conscience, because David, who hesitated, contemplated - only god knew what inner battle he was fighting - gave eventually in and went back to Harry.

„Jesus fucking christ", he muttered, his hand on Harry's back as he roughly pushed him inside, earning a questioning look of the porter.

They ended up in David's room.

No words were whatsoever exchanged during the lift ride or the walk through the long hallway, and it remained so when the door closed shut behind them, David letting go of Harry and disappearing into the bathroom.

Water was soon running, swallowing up quiet curses judged by the upset undertone and then, it became silent again.

A few seconds turned into a whole minute. No water, no curses. _What was going on?_  
Harry listened carefully while stepping closer with cautious, brows knitted in worry.

„Are you okay?", he asked and flinched (nearly hit the ceiling with his head) as the door was ripped open and David stormed out, straight onto the balcony.

There, he let himself fall on the cushioned bamboo chair, the furniture squeaking in response, his legs up and resting on the wooden square table, a pack of cigarettes already in his hands.

David was clearly stressed and Harry wondered why.

He leaned against the glass door, feet by the threshold like the last time, waiting for David to talk, but he didn't.

All he did was smoking and eyeing the beach through the railing, and Harry noticed a few water drops gliding down his lightly stubbled cheeks, looking like sparkling champagne tears, falling on his lap while the wet traces evaporated in the sizzling sunlight.

„Hey...", Harry said softly, but David didn't react.  
Lit cigarette held between his slender fingers, he massaged his forehead and took a deep breath of fresh air for a change.

„No. No, I'm not okay", he sighed, frustrated and Harry bit his lower lip.

Of course, it was obvious, crystal-clear that David wasn't okay, even a blind man could see that, so Harry  
thought twice before he spoke again, when he just remembered their deal, and his mouth snapped shut.

„Red flag?", he checked first. David inhaled the precious nicotine, cheeks hollow, stare blank, holding the sweet toxin and then, exhaling his relief in long grey wisps, swirling towards the blue sky, fading into nothingness.

„Red flag."

Harry nodded. Not because he understood, but because he accepted David's decision.

For some unknown reasons, he hid his identity, his past and his future - and Harry respected David's privacy, he did.  
The thing was just, even though David had built several walls to lock those information away, out of Harry's sight, out of his reach, they were a compromise.

A wedge between Harry and David to stay close, and Harry knew it - because in the end, it didn't matter how thick, how bulletproof these walls were, but how high.

And right now, Harry could peak over the edge, could see David's emotions. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

„By the way, thanks for the aspirin. It really helped, woke up with a pretty bad headache", Harry said, thinking. „And thanks for walking me to my room."

For fuck's sake, he gave way too many thanks to somebody who just gave him a half-arsed apology for letting him wait nearly an hour. And that prick snorted.

„‚ _Walking_ '?", David repeated, twisting his half-burnt cigarette in his hand.  
„‚ _Carrying_ ' would be more fitting. You were fucking hammered, lad. Drunk as fuck, guzzling vodka at the bar as if it was water", David recalled, shaking his head in either amazement or disgust, without breaking his view over the beach - to Harry's favour.

„We were at the bar?", he asked. _Okay, climb down the wall, climb down_ _the wall!_  
He wanted to run away as far as possible, or wished the ground would open up and swallow him - depending on which way was the fastest.

„Yeah. You were acting super high after our swim, begged me to have a few more drinks with you. Don't get me wrong, I love myself a few pints, but you overdid it last night. Had to basically pull you away from the counter."

Harry was close to jump off the balcony, every word pushed him closer to the edge, but when David was done, he was still standing by the threshold.  
His cheeks were burning hot by now.

„Shit. I'm sorry, I can't remember...-"

„Good. Wouldn't want you to remember how I cleaned up your shit."

_Oh, no._

„My shit?" Harry stared at David's profile wide eyed, afraid of the brutal truth and David swung his feet from the table, sitting low in his seat with both legs spread. He took another drag. Paused. Exhaled, painfully slow.

„You made a run for the bathroom once we entered your room, and threw up, again. Unfortunately, you've missed the toilette. So, yeah, I had to switch from baby-sitter to the fucking cleaning fairy. You're welcome", David said casually, but still a bit sharply.

The stuffy air, mixed with the smoke, mixed with the overwhelming embarrassment suffocated Harry and he felt bad, unbelievably bad.

Because David took care of him.  
Made sure he didn't drink himself into a coma. Cleaned up his mess and even brought him medicine.

And... actually kissed his neck?

That wasn't a dream then, was it? The memory bright as daylight among the veil of oblivion.

He had put Harry to bed, tucked him in, brushed some wet, tangled curls from his face and caressed his head.

He was convinced, since it reminded Harry of his mother, whenever she put him to bed as a child, singing a lullaby while gently touching his head, comforting him because his father wouldn't acknowledge him most days.  
Her tender words and warm hands never failed to dispel his sorrow, breaking his cloud cover for the sun to shine.

So when Harry felt the bed shift, the warmth suddenly gone, he whined in protest.  
_„I'll be right back"_ , David had whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his neck and leaving the room, returning shortly after with a package of aspirin and a note.

_Was it wrong for not regretting anything?_

„I don't know what to say. I'm really sorry", Harry admitted, rubbing his neck.  
„I guess I was... just really happy last night."

He was more than that. He'd been over the moon - bathing in moonlight, dancing in it, touching it. Life had never been so vivid. So free.

And then, David stretched out his arm, ocean eyes fixated on Harry, pulling him into deep blue depths and Harry gladly immersed. Instantly. Unconditionally.

It took him two steps to reach David's side, his waiting arm behind his back and without missing a beat, David closed the distance, his arm slipping around Harry's waist like a snake, and his nose faintly brushed his stomach.

„Got lost in the women's section?", David teased, tugging at the ruffled sleeves as a small smirk painted his lips.

The incident from last night seemed forgiven and forgotten, his features relaxed and eyes reflecting a familiar mischief.

„You don't like it?", Harry raised an eyebrow, watching David who took a drag, his eyes still glued to the silky garment. The tiniest head shake barely visible behind a barrier of smoke.

„It's nice." He squeezed Harry's side, moving his hand up to the round, closed collar and his smirk grew when he felt Harry shuddering under his touch. That cheeky bastard.

„David..."

„Don't say that name", he hushed him, freeing Harry's neck from the too tight button, his finger ghosting over his Adam's apple.

He gulped, making contact with David's finger and without averting his gaze, David threw the cigarette off the balcony. Unfazed, incidentally, as if he wasn't addicted to it, wouldn't need it to function, to exist. As if Harry was his only drug.

„You", he said while grabbing his collar, yanking Harry down so their faces were just inches apart. „You're a fucking sin wrapped in silky innocence."

The humid heat licked Harry's bronze skin, and David's touches melted it, turning him into wax. And if David desired, he could shape him into anything.

That was the power he had at this very moment, and Harry was completely unaware of it. Blinded by those electric blue glaciers - the hottest fires always burnt blue, Harry realized.

And his body caught fire, flames flickering through his veins, blood hot like lava and Harry wrapped his legs around David's hips, sat on his lap, ready to burn to ashes - when a phone rang. And the fire died out.

„Move! Move!", David urged as he tried to stand up and Harry dodged to the side, watching as he picked up his phone back in the shady hotel room, far away from Harry, who - gripping tightly the railing for support - tried to contain his racing heartbeat.

What did just happen?  
Or more precisely: what was about to happen?

„It's gonna be okay, don't you worry", he heard David say, voice strained yet comforting. He paced at the door, back facing the balcony.

„He won't do this. No...- listen. Everything's gonna be alright, I know that. Was I ever wrong?"

A pause, then a small chuckle.

„See? Go back to sleep now, you need to rest. Yeah, yeah. I know... okay. Yeah, you too. Bye."

Somehow, David seemed exhausted after he hung up. Head low and shoulders slack, he stood still for a while, restoring his energy.

„I can leave if you want", Harry offered, stepping inside and David turned around.

„No", he said, lips running over his thin lips as his eyes were locked on the screen. But he put it away, back into his pocket, even though he didn't want to, Harry could tell, and flicked his fringe aside.

He rubbed his palms together, biceps slightly twitching beneath his short Prada sleeve.

„I have a place to show you." He smirked, old David back. His hands found Harry's elbows, pulling him a little closer, close enough for him to see the gold flakes in Harry's vibrant jades and close enough for Harry to see the silvery spark in David's sapphires through those long, thick lashes.

Harry smiled. „Is that so? Care to tell me if I'm dressed appropriately this time?"

And David's smirk widened, his eyes doing the exploring. „Couldn't have done it any better myself, angel."

_Angel._

Was it his imagination or did David's behavior change? He was more affectionate it seemed (he called him fucking angel), and maybe Harry was still dreaming. Sleeping in his bed, body recovering and cleansing itself of all that alcohol poisoning.

If so, he hoped to not wake up any time soon.

„I'll guide you back to heaven", David said, all mysteriously and teasingly. Harry was intrigued, hanging on his every word.

„Have you ever heard of ‚Starway to Heaven'?" His smirk was almost devilish.


	6. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, so get yourself comfortable, grab a snack and drink, and enjoy! x

Funny enough, Harry has heard of ‚Stairway to Heaven' before. He was pretty sure Hawaii’s entire islanders and every other tourist knew about it — about the 3922 stairs that led up the imposing, and really dangerous, mountain ridge, mostly in a vertical incline, with only a hand-rail to catch you from falling into the valley below as you climb your way up — literally towards heaven — surrounded by clouds and the howling wind.

  
Yes, Harry has heard of the gorgeous, breathtaking view overlooking Kaneohe and Kaneohe Bay, a duvet of lush greens covering the landscape, extending to the sky-high mountains which encircled the stairway. And — he has also heard of the 1000$ fine.

Because as a matter of fact, trespassing this trail was illegal. Because practically, those wooden stairs were as safe as a thin layer of ice, built in 1942 and damaged by a huge storm a few years ago, most sections were either loose or broken. Therefore, safety concerns and common sense had led to the closure of this potential death trip.  
  
So naturally, Harry was questioning David’s common sense (and his as well) as he followed the man out of the hotel to make their way to the infamous stairway.  
  
After David had parked on a street in Haiku Village (not the least bit worried about their criminal act, rather excited about the risk of getting caught, stupid smirk shamelessly ragging Harry), they sneaked through the neighborhood. With a bunch of dogs furiously barking, Harry almost fell from the wire fence he was climbing up when he suddenly saw a man rushing out of his house, a phone pressed to his ear as he talked angrily — probably calling the police. _Great start._  
  
„Hurry up, for fuck’s sake“, David hissed, half-serious half-amused, pulling on Harry’s arm and almost ripping the fine silk, while he dragged his body to the other side. The man, however, was still spitting words in the background, but Harry didn’t pay any more attention, couldn’t, because he was pushed into a dense bamboo forest which was steep as hell.

The dry earth beneath their feet slipped away like quick sand, massive roots and wild plants turning the ground into a humpy moonscape and Harry, who struggled to conquer the overgrown hill, clutched at straw thin trees to heave himself upwards, dooming gravity as he struggled — and those god damn dogs that were still barking somewhere.

„We could get in trouble, you know“, Harry argued, a little out of breath. He tried to keep up with David’s pace whose stamina seemed unaffected by the climb, carrying his stuffed backpack like it was an accessory, whereas Harry was only equipped with his camera — and yet he lagged behind.  
  
„If you plan on getting caught, then yes“, he said over his shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course. Despite that smartass’ stamina, his sharp tongue remained unaffected as well.  
  


It took them around half an hour to cross the forest, and successfully avoid the guarded entrance. Somehow, David knew exactly when to slow down or when to speed up, so Harry assumed this wasn’t his first rodeo. By the time they came out of the thicket; shirts soaked and sticking to heated skin; a sun-drenched path welcomed the two men and from there, a short walk separated them from the base of the stairs.  
  
And to Harry’s non-existing surprise, another fence prevented any unwanted access to the forbidden trail, the rusted door securely locked and a huge sign warning potential trespassers of danger (‚S _eriously bodily injury or death may result. Do not go beyond this sign_ ‘. How lovely). But David, being totally unimpressed, took a grip of the metal mesh and revealed a hole the size of two watermelons, enough room to get barely across the gate.

„Ladies first“, he said and smirked, motioning to Harry to get through — who eventually did as told, biting back a comment. He patiently waited for David, and after he’d stood up again, blue eyes framed by moist strands of caramel hair, Harry stepped aside for him to go ahead, because the narrow trail only allowed one person at a time. Except, he didn’t move.

Instead, David looked at Harry and nodded towards the head spinning heights of the foggy mountain ridge. „Alright, mate. Let’s go. We’re here if you haven’t noticed yet.“

Harry frowned. „You want me to go first?“  
  
„Yes.“  
  
„Why?“  
  
To be honest, the idea of going ahead didn’t really excite him (actually, this whole trip didn’t excite him at all). The sight of the first wooden steps was reason enough for Harry to turn on his heel and run away — rotten and deformed by mother nature, making the impression to break in half as soon as he’d step on it. A death trap. 3922 death traps in total, spread across a narrow, rocky rollercoaster with ups and downs, reaching a height of maximal 2000 feet. Nope, Harry wasn’t keen on experiencing all this by being in the first row. But David showed no mercy.

„Because“, he sighed. „I’m not eager hearing your whining ass behind me, because I’m faster than you. So come on, step ahead, big boy.“

Harry grumbled something under his breath, but in the end, he gave in, just wanting to get this over with. „Fine“, he said and stepped ahead, gripping the railing on each side. _Jesus Christ._

„Mind the steps“, David pointed out, and Harry glanced over his shoulder. „Thanks. Had no clue since we passed all those signs.“

David smirked, and Harry bet that he found his panicking state amusing, judging by his silent enjoyment, when normally, he’d answer with one of his snarky remarks. But nonetheless, Harry was happy to see David in good spirits again. The phone call back in his hotel room did seemingly stir him up, and god knows what kind of meeting the man had earlier that caused his delay for their date. There were so many questions Harry wanted to ask, so many obscurities, and yet, they were all wrapped in red flags, remaining a mystery to him. So instead, he pushed them aside and focused on the breathtaking view, ignoring his fears as he moved higher and higher.  
At some point, Harry slowed down as the wind became stronger, howling in his ears, with the clouds within reach now. The silky material of his blouse was sticking to his skin, in a way that made Harry’s nose scrunch.

„Hey, why are you stopping?“, David asked when the man in front of him came to a halt.  
Harry just fumbled with his camera, getting it out of his bag and holding it firmly, not wanting to drop the expensive device. It most likely wouldn’t survive a fall from this height.And neither would Harry. He swallowed.

„I’m taking a picture“, he simply stated as he did so, capturing the green wall of mountains, veiled in a milky, mysterious fog. David scoffed, missing the slight shake in Harry’s voice.

„You’re taking a break“, David corrected with a shit-eating grin, one that made Harry roll his eyes behind his camera.

„So what? Would you rather carry me when I collapse?“

„Seriously? Are you already at your limit?“

„Sorry, but climbing 4,000 stairs up and down doesn’t stand on my daily agenda.“

„We’re barely halfway through“, David said, and Harry sighed. „Not the point“, he mumbled and hung the camera around his neck, huffing quietly.

Harry moved his tired legs, taking step after step, increasing his pace to make David shut up. But no matter how fast Harry was, the other man seemed close behind, and it somehow frustrated him. His body started to tremble, from either exhaustion or feat, or both, but he didn’t stop. Adrenalin was now filling Harry’s veins, pushing him forward. The wind became stronger, a cold whiplash to his face, hitting him over and over while it growled in his ears. Like an animal, a lion, who was baring its teeth, ready to attack. Harry was contemplating to turn around, just to make sure that there was no real lion chasing him. But he didn’t, not risking hearing another comment from David. And then, the wind turned the lion into a voice, and Harry thought he was losing his mind as it whispered something. Something familiar.

_‚Coffee here just tastes bitter without you‘._

_‚It’s good news‘._

Good news. Good news.

Gemma and Liam.

The baby.

„Harry!“, someone called, but it was too late. A loud gasp left Harry’s chest when one of the rotten steps broke under his feet and he slipped, losing his balance and falling backwards. In a split second, Harry’s life was flashing before his eyes, all the things he did and didn’t do. All the sad, tear-stained faces of the people he loved when they’d stand in front of his coffin. A tragic death, avoidable — if he hadn’t disobeyed the law. Some would say it was karma that he died hiking this forbidden trail, and some would say it was just bad luck. But Harry was lucky, because for some reason, he didn’t fall. He was completely frozen in place when his falling suddenly stopped.

„You okay? I told you to mind the steps“, David grumbled, both arms tightly wrapped around Harry’s torso, keeping him steady. „S-Sorry“, Harry stuttered, still in shock, and he swore he could feel David’s pounding heart against his back. Harry glanced over his shoulder, up to the man who caught him, who saved him yet again. And he understood.  
David frowned. „What?“, he asked when Harry started to smile, but he shook his head.  
„Nothing. Just… thank you.“

„You’re welcome. Now, would you be so kind and stand up? You’re pretty heavy“, David murmured, helping the curly man to get back on his feet. „Do you want to keep going?“ Harry held onto the railing as he looked at David, every movement now cautious. „Yeah, yeah. I mean, you’ve got my back“, Harry breathed and smiled knowingly, though it was neither arrogant nor mocking, just soft. A soft smile. One that came straight from the heart. And David saw that, because he chewed on his lower lip, as if he got caught.

„I bet you did this on purpose“, David hummed teasingly once they were walking again.

"What?“, Harry asked. His heart was still struggling to calm down, but he was too focused on David to register it.

„On purpose. You know, like in the movies. Girls have these tricks, they pretend to stumble, or to faint, so that the handsome male protagonist can help them. And then, some unrealistic kind of magic shit is happening and they fall in love, and—.“

„Wow, slow down“, Harry interrupted him, a dry chuckle rolling off his tongue. „First of all, I’m not a girl“, he said and glared at David, who just smirked.

„Debatable.“

Harry rolled his eyes hard, glad that his back was facing David. „Keep your stereotypes, mate… Second of all, I didn’t do this on purpose, I’m not suicidal. And last but not least, you’re _not_ handsome.“ Big lie. David was. He was the definition of handsome, which David seemed to be aware of, because Harry heard his dramatic gasp. It made him smile, and yet again — thank god he wasn’t facing him.

„I’m not? I see. So you sat next to me at that bar because of my good character“, David concluded sarcastically. Whatever they were doing, this little game of teasing each other in a playful way, it was refreshing. And Harry enjoyed it, without showing it too much. _A gentleman never tells._

„You looked so lonely. I thought I’d keep you company“, Harry lied.

David laughed softly, and Harry wished he could save it in a bottle, so whenever he had a bad day he could listen to it by opening the lit. Because without being too dramatic, David’s laugh seemed to be the best medicine existing in this world. It erased any pain, calmed the nerves, and most importantly, put a smile on Harry’s lips.

„Yeah, right. That’s why you kept me company in my bed as well?“, David inquired.

Harry chewed on his lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. He enjoyed this way too much. And deep down, his subconsciousness warned him, that he shouldn’t let himself get swallowed by this wave of false hopes. This carefree conversation was just an illusion, and Harry knew he shouldn’t interpret too much into it, but he couldn’t help it. The way David talked, his voice warm and soothing, like a serpent charmer, and Harry was listening with his heart, letting the words lull him into a dream.

One that would never turn into reality. But the thing with dreams was that in the moment, while you’re dreaming, everything seemed so real, so normal. Just after waking up, one would notice the quirks and cracks, the things that made no sense. And whether this conversation, this whole agreement between the two of them made no sense to the majority, Harry would still rather dream than facing reality.

And so, their playful argument about David’s doubtful handsomeness and Harry’s not so innocent intentions continued.

They were deep in conversation, so much that Harry didn’t notice the setting sun, or the stunning landscape underneath them that became smaller and smaller with each step he took, a miniature forest and city now surrounding them. Or the head spinning height.

And finally, after passing platform one and two of the trail, the summit was within reach, and Harry couldn’t believe that they made it, that _he_ made it.

„Wow…“, he breathed once he stood on top of Hawaii. It was surreal, but at the same time, Harry never felt this awake. This alive. As if he had opened his eyes for the first time in his life, seeing the true beauty of the world, causing his heart to beat in ecstasy.

The sun, a big orange globe of fire, hung low above the city and broke through the haze. All these houses and buildings were so tiny in comparison to the overflowing sea of greens, fishes created by human hand; made of stone and steel; swimming around in neat structures. Tiny, tiny fishes. And everything was painted in vibrant orange and soft pink, with a hint of blue and grapey purple in-between.  
No artist could capture this scenery, no one could ever capture the essence of magic and power, Harry thought.

„It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?“, David hummed, a content sigh leaving his lips as he leaned against the small, shabby bunker behind Harry that held a huge antennae on top. The curly lad just nodded, unable to avert his gaze from the view or using any words, because no adjective could do justice to what he was seeing. He smiled, to himself, to the sky, to this special moment.

„It’s beautiful. More than that. It’s… a reason to be alive“, Harry whispered, consumed by admiration. He grabbed his camera and took a few pictures, every click in synch with his racing heart.

David chuckled quietly while stepping next to Harry, leaning against the rusty railing with his arms folded. „I knew you’d like it. I remember the first time I was here…“

Harry gave David a side glance from behind his camera. „Yeah?“

He nodded. A fond expression took over the man’s features, and Harry wished he could see the memories trapped inside David’s head that were the origin of that gentle smile.

„I was 18, shortly after my birthday. It was a surprise, and I remember climbing the stairs during the night, with my best mate and my sister“, David told, and Harry listened, lowering his camera, because _fuck_ , one of those red flags seemed to lose its tight grip around David. He could peek inside, past the curtain, and Harry held his breath, all his senses focusing on David and his moving lips.  
„The moon was the only source of light and guided us. And once we were up, so fucking exhausted and sweaty, the sunrise was our reward.“

David looked into the distance, and Harry knew he was recalling the memory, visualizing it, feeling it again — the moonlight on his glistening skin, the breeze, the burning muscles, the laughter, the adrenaline, and the sunrise. Those were all beloved fragments of a beloved moment. And he just shared that with Harry. He cleared his throat.

„So Hawaii is a special place to you?“, he asked carefully, not trying to step into a trap that would snap and destroy this fragile moment. Because it was delicately built, like a butterfly's wing, and Harry felt excited and anxious at the same time. This right here could turn into another precious memory of David, could become _their_ memory.

But David seemed to notice his mistake, seemed to regret his loose tongue as he shut his mouth and just kept staring at the sinking sun. Funny, how a promising opportunity could slip away this easily, Harry thought bitterly, leaning on the railing as well. The smell of wet metal lingered in the air among a pool of fresh exotic plants, a hint of rain somewhere, hidden in the heavy clouds.

„I have a sister as well“, Harry said and David sighed.

„Stop it.“

His voice was sharp like a knife, cutting the air between them, as well as Harry’s bubble.

And then it was silent again, David’s words echoing in the valley below them, a trace of hope fading away. Harry tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, because there was no reason to get sad or upset, as David was right — they agreed on sharing no private information, and still, Harry — in his despair — had snatched at that chance when David let his guard down. Had been ready to break their deal.

„Sorry“, Harry mumbled after a while, the sun now kissing the horizon. He was about to say some more, in order to break the awkward silence, but it was already smashed to pieces by David’s loud scream.

Harry flinched hard, looking up at the man who was now standing a bit higher, feet balancing on the railing. It shocked him that such a small body could release such a strong and powerful scream, one that made a group of birds left their shelter inside a tree crown. One that vibrated inside Harry’s chest.

„W-What…?“, Harry stuttered in pure perplexity, but when he saw David’s face, he understood.

A familiar feeling spread through his body, making him remember the night before when they were at the beach and swimming under the moonlight. Because right now, David felt like Harry felt back then — free.

The man turned into a boy, with his chains turning into wings. Harry’s breath was stuck in his throat. David’s sun kissed face was shining, brighter than the sun, brighter than the moon, and there was passion, fearless passion trapped in those sparkling ocean eyes.

He screamed again, at the top of his lungs, leaving a piece of his soul in this divine, holy place. And Harry couldn’t stop looking, was moved in an inexplicable way that his mind couldn’t process, but only his heart.

Their eyes met, and the air between them crackled. They smiled, and everything was good again. Because after all, David was here with Harry, and that was all that mattered.

„Didn’t do that the last time“, David said and grinned. „The screaming“, he added, climbing down the railing and stumbling backwards once his feet touched the ground again. „But I guess you inspired me.“

Harry returned the grin, lowering his head, as if David’s little praise was too much to handle.

„Good. As long as you don’t do binge drinking“, Harry joked. Both men chuckled, with David shaking his head slightly. Despite the few disasters that occurred today; like David’s late arrival, Harry’s near-death experience and Gemma’s text plus picture that triggered an avalanche of speculations; the day had been perfect so far.

He watched how David raised his hand and reached for the sky, touching the sun, holding golden rays of light in his grip. And Harry did the same.

He lifted his hand, which sparkled like a gemstone with its many rings. But instead of the sun, he reached for David. _His personal sun._

Touching his cheek, skin warm and pink and soft, he met the lad’s confuse stare, which didn’t stop his actions.

„What are you—“, David asked in irritation. His question, however, got caught by a pair of full, heart-shaped lips. Harry’s lips.

Harry kissed him.

He kissed David, while standing on top of the world. While heaven was closer than earth. And as soon as he pressed his lips on David’s, in the most sweetest and yet clumsiest way possible, Harry realized that every step he took today had been worth it.

Because nothing could compare to this feeling; the butterflies inside the hurricanes in his chest and stomach, swirling six liters of blood in his veins, shaking his nerves until they tingled, with waves of electricity shooting through his body — and the first spark that ignited this firework inside Harry’s body came from David’s velvet lips.

Harry closed his eyes. If the breathtaking view beneath them was a reason to be alive, then David’s lips were a reason to live for.

However, while floating in pure bliss, Harry was surprised.

It weren’t the slight stubbles that poked him, or the exception of Harry not having to bend down to hold the kiss that surprised him, but more so the fact that the other man didn’t push him away.

Because this kiss was different than the ones they had shared back then at the hotel — which were part of a heated foreplay to their bed story, a nice transition from the bar to David’s room. Nothing more, and nothing less, because every story needed some kind of prelude before it reached its climax. _Literally.  
_

But this time, it was different, as there was no sexual tension lingering in the air among the metal scent. No. This kiss was innocent, almost shy.

Harry had his hands on David’s cheeks, imagining he’d cup a delicate flower, careful not to break it, while David’s arms were hanging by his sides. It felt like kissing a statue, because the lad didn’t move at all, just David’s quiet, shaky breath was proof of his liveness.  
  
And Harry didn’t know if the kiss lasted seconds, minutes or hours, but when his lungs started to beg for proper oxygen feed, he slowly pulled away, forcing them to stare into each other’s widened eyes like they didn’t know each other at all.

Shocked. That’s what David’s blue eyes were flooded with, and before Harry knew it, his tongue quickly decided to save them from this awkward moment by saying something his brain hadn’t yet approved of.

„God, you taste like an ashtray.“

Granted, not the best thing to say in a situation like this, but judging by David’s smile, it was the right choice. He simply shrugged and buried both hands in the pockets of his black tracksuit pants.

„What did you expect?“, David asked, glancing at the last rays of the dying sun, the arousing city lights resembling static fireflies, frozen in place. And it was true.  
Harry didn’t expect anything else as it was no secret how much David was smoking, but it didn’t bother him really, because the feelings those smokey lips brought to life were making up for the bitter, ashy taste.

However, he was currently dealing with something else despite the tobacco on David’s tongue.

Because Harry Styles was panicking in secret. To say he was fine would have been the understatement of the century.

The moment the realization hit him (he fucking kissed David out of the blue!), Harry’s heart rate reached the stratosphere, because somehow, the touch of their lips left another realization — one that he wasn’t ready to face yet. One that needed to be cast aside, needed to vanish with the sun, far far away behind the horizon and to the ends of the world.  
  
So Harry covered up his mental state by playing it cool, his expression relaxed and not giving away the chaos trapped inside his head. His heart was now sinking, like the titanic, and David was the fucking iceberg.

„Right, right. But maybe try using gums or mouth wash to freshen up“, Harry said with a smile without sounding too teasing, and David looked at him for what felt like an eternity, which didn’t really help his getting-out-of-control emotions.

However, David kept those unspoken words that were threatening to spill behind his brilliant electric eyes. And whatever it was, Harry wondered if he should be grateful or not for that.

„Well, how about I mask it with some garlic. Would you prefer that?“, David offered, the shock on his face now fully replayed by his familiar smugness, and Harry was relieved, but nonetheless, scrunched his nose.

„Not necessarily.“

David chuckled.

„Come on, lad. I know an amazing food truck with the best garlic shrimps in the world.“

Harry narrowed his eyes, not convinced yet. But maybe he was just testing David’s efforts to persuade him. Maybe.

„If we both smell of garlic, it won’t be bad“, David added, and Harry grinned, not making the mistake to comment how cute he was. Because David was. Cute and hot and confusing, all at the same time, with many other characteristics from ‚unpredictable‘ to ‚confident‘ (not to conflate it with arrogance).

And so, as Harry was internally a mess, with legs feeling like jello from either the hike or the kiss, he ended up agreeing to David’s plan, following him back down after they had bathed in the beautiful dusk for some more; the pale moon now their companion high above their heads.

It had been one of a kind experience to climb this trail, but walking down the _Stairway to Heaven_ was even more special. Because while Harry passed the clouds, returning to earth step by step, he felt like coming back with an actual piece of heaven.

He had tasted it, and it was sweet, with a smoky note.

__

David was right — the shrimps were pretty good. And Harry might or might not eat his second portion (because he was really hungry, the hike took in total four insane hours. Plus, food was a great distraction to forget about the K word).

It was shortly after half past eight when they had reached the food truck, Harry managing to pay for both of them before David could protest, which put a proud smile on his face that lasted the whole time they wandered around to find a seating accommodation.

At last, they’d found some stone stairs of an abandoned looking house door to settle themselves, enjoying their food and canned beer while busy cars rushed through the street in front of them. Everything was glowing, the city swimming in gold and drowning in blinking lights under a pitch-black sky, and the night air was vibrating.

After Harry returned from getting his second portion of garlic shrimps, something seemed to have caught David’s eye as he kept staring down at Harry’s hand.  
  
„Is this one a souvenir as well?“, he asked, making the curly lad look up in mild confusion. He nodded towards Harry’s left wrist. „ _I can’t change_ “, David read the inked letters aloud, and Harry swallowed down his bite, tracing the lines with his heavy-lidded eyes.

„It was my first tattoo. Got it in LA.“ The memory made his heart ache a little before he frowned.

„I thought we’re not allowed to talk about private stuff“, Harry pointed out, but David just rolled his eyes and nudged his shoulder with his.

„Relax. We’re doing some harmless small talk.“

„About…?“ Harry raised an eyebrow as he glanced at David expectantly, trying not to smile too much, but his dimples exposed him. Like they always did.

„About tattoos. Your world trip. Anything, except the weather.“

Harry laughed softly, a long curl falling into his face as he lowered his head, slowly brushing it back aside to where it belonged. „Why not the weather?“, he asked. David huffed.

„Because just grandpas are talking about the weather“, he said and shoved more shrimps into his mouth, followed by a sip of his beer before he watched Harry with cautious eyes. „What are you doing?“, he demanded as the other reached for his head.

„I think… oh! I think you got a grey hair there“, Harry gasped, succeeding in making David grin, even though he tried — just like Harry prior — to hide it. But he failed as well, crinkles framing his squinting eyes, hugging the warmth they radiated.

„Ha, ha. You’re funny“, he mumbled sarcastically and slapped his ringed hand away, though there was a truth behind his words, and Harry heard it.

They savored this silly little moment by letting it slowly fade away instead of interrupting it, eating and drinking in comfortable silence. Though, after a minute or two, Harry still felt David’s words weighing the atmosphere, and therefore, he chose his own words carefully before adding them.

„I’ve started this trip a year ago. Left home, because things didn’t turn out… good.“ Harry fumbled with his rings, elbows resting on his knees, the night breeze licking on his half-naked legs. They were still weak, and he knew he’d be sore tomorrow.

„So, before things could escalate even more, I left. I’ve wanted to see the world, catching upon everything I’ve missed. But when I first landed in LA, I was still frustrated, still angry. So the tattoo was more of an act of defiance, dedicated to the person I had differences with. You know?“

He shrugged, not really sure if David could relate, but then again, Harry liked to think that they were more alike than David liked to admit. Although he didn’t know him — his background story, his reason to be in Hawaii, the reason behind his denial in sharing private details — Harry knew one thing for sure, and that was the fact that they were cast in the same mould.

Because he saw it today; on top of the Koolau mountain, after conquering the forbidden trail; Harry saw the craving, a great appetite in David’s eyes that no amount of delicious, buttery garlic shrimps could ever satisfy. It was a hunger for freedom, a strong desire, one that sent shivers running down Harry’s spine as he recalled the blue fires inside David’s eyes, ready to burn every obstacle that held him back.

„I see.“

David finished his food, the empty carton placed by his feet.

He met Harry’s gaze, and the fire had long gone out, leaving just two pools of burning ashes behind, or maybe it was the house’s shadow that tinted his eyes a cloudy grey.

Whatever it was, and despite saying just two simple words, Harry knew that David _saw_ indeed.

Saw the pain behind the tattoo, the hatred, the despair. Among his family, it was no secret that his father despised Harry. He always had, and he always would. But since he found out about his son’s homosexuality, things turned ugly. Very ugly.

Harry remembered the night so vividly, it might well have happened just yesterday, when Desmond Styles smashed his laptop against the wall; face red and angry, close to spit fire; but instead, he threw his collection of vintage whiskey glasses after Harry, who was running through the huge mansion like a mouse trapped inside a labyrinth. The crystal shattered, and with it, Harry’s hopes. Pieces of broken glass and a broken soul were veiled in heavy, creamy curtains and the glamour of a picture-perfect family.

That night, he bawled his eyes out, and spent the night at Liam’s, having Gemma pack his stuff to get away to the airport the next day. Maybe Harry had been hasty, but he knew it was the right decision.

He wanted to be free, from restriction and expectations he would never meet. ‚ _I can’t change_ ’ was a way of fighting back, some sort of defensive mechanism, because when Harry sat in a plane that took him far far away from London, he made a decision, and that involved him never changing for anyone, especially not his father.

„So…“, David said after clearing his throat to catch Harry’s attention, tearing him from his thoughts. He smoothed out any wrinkles on his pants before he rubbed his palms together, posture crooked as David slightly bent over his knees. Harry listened, ignoring how good he looked in the city lights, and ignoring the phantom itch on his tattoo.

„I wonder. Are you searching or running?“ David’s piercing icicles somehow melted in the moonlight, and Harry raised his head, baffled.

„What do you mean?“ _This man was definitely a puzzle book on two legs._

„I mean…“, David watched a group of laughing people staggering on the opposing pavement, their young, strong voices shrill and drowning the car honk of someone who seemed to applaud their singing. He ran a hand through his cinnamon hair, fixing his messy fringe.

„I mean, when people decide to travel the world, there’s a specific reason why they do it. So, there are two options“, David explained and Harry was all ears, placing his food away to fully concentrate.

„Either you’re searching for something. A place, a feeling, the meaning of life, whatever. It’s something you haven’t found yet, and maybe you can’t put your finger on it what exactly it is, but you can tell it’s missing. But once you’ve found it, you’re complete. Then, you’ve finally, and truly, arrived.“

Harry’s mouth was dry, and that’s when he realized he hadn’t moved while David spoke. Hadn’t breathed or blinked, because the air was thick and heavy. He took a nip of his beer, tugging his lower lip between his teeth afterwards, the aftertaste of the lad’s words adding a dash of bitterness on Harry’s tongue, but still, he wanted more „And the second option?“

David stretched his neck, moving it from side to side, the shadows of the city lights sharpening his jaw, and for a moment, he looked like a boxer, preparing for the final round.

„Or you’re running away. From a problem, from something that suffocates you, that smothers you. But I’ll tell you a secret…“, he mumbled and looked at the long-haired man whose features were tense.

„No matter how far you travel, if it’s 1,000 miles or all the continents combined separating you from home… The problem is still there.“

David shrugged, the group of people long gone, but he kept staring at the same spot, as if he could still see their cheerful faces. „So it’s useless, the traveling“, was his final conclusion, his verdict. The judge has spoken, and his wisdom rubbed salt in Harry’s wound, reached the little cracks of his heart that were still open after a year.

Harry lowered his head, staring down at his sneakers and this time, he didn’t care for any long curls blocking his sight.

„So you think it’s a total waste of time?“, Harry mumbled.

„What’s going to change? Sure, a few nice tattoos, a few golden rings and pictures. But all these things are just scratching the surface. They don’t proof shit, despite your holiday memories.“

Harry nodded slightly. „Right“, he breathed, a long, exhausted exhale. Why was David saying all of this? Why ruining a day that had been all in all good?

But Harry — after climbing 4,000 steep steps up and down, and after going through every possible emotion after their kiss, because David hadn’t kissed him back and didn’t talk about it like it was some tabu, which filled Harry with all kinds of doubts — had no energy left to feel anything other than the gentle night breeze caressing his tired limbs. Getting upset would be too draining, he figured out. But after finding the courage to raise his head, Harry realized something by looking at David’s face.

He wasn’t mean. He _pretended_ to be. It made Harry frown, as he couldn’t tell the reason for why David did that, or how he himself was able to call the other man’s act.

It just was… half-hearted.

Meanwhile, David was still staring at something, and that’s when Harry spotted the couple opposite of them, hidden behind a palm tree.

They were sitting on stairs as well, holding hands while talking — maybe about how many kids they were going to have in the future, or maybe about the movie they just watched at the cinema around the corner. And while they did, both of them couldn’t avert their gazes from each other for even a second, making it clear as daylight how much in love they were. Harry envied them, not aware that he wasn’t the only one.

„I’m just being honest. And I tend to say what I’m thinking“, David stated and pulled out his packet of cigarettes.

„I see it differently.“ Harry watched as the couple stood up, her smiling face pressed against his chest while he had his arm securely wrapped around his girl. They left, and Harry glanced at David, who was now getting his lighter. He raised an eyebrow.

„Oh yeah? Then shoot.“

„All these things seem superficial to others, the rings, the tattoos. But to me, they have a special meaning. They represent my inner self.“

Harry held the canned beer loosely in his hand, swaying it gentle and feeling the cooling effect it had on the thin metal.

It weren’t just rings or tattoos, not just material stuff, but proof of who he was, and therefore, he wore them with great pride. He, who wasn’t allowed to wear any kind of jewelry back home. Who wasn’t allowed to have tattoos, or letting his hair grow long and painting his finger nails, because it was considered too feminine. Back then, Harry would have kept following these ridiculous rules, but not anymore. It was time to break out of the golden cage.

„You could say that I’m on the run in order to search“, he added, and took a long drag of his cigarette.

„And have you found whatever you’re searching for?“, he asked as he exhaled, and Harry shrugged, not sure what to answer.

„I’ll know it next week, when I’m back in London.“

Facing his father after a year would be the final ordeal, and Harry was determined to not let go of the things he had learned, or give up of who he had become. And David seemed to understand as he raised his beer, cigarette dangling between his lips.

„Cheers, lad“, David said, and Harry copied him, smiling the best he could regarding their conversation. „Cheers.“

They both took a hearty draught from their canned beer, as if to drown the heaviness of the topic, washing any traces of the past away. However, it wasn’t enough to eliminate Harry’s curiosity.

„What are you doing here in Hawaii by the way?“, he asked carefully, and David (who would have thought it?) was raising a warning finger, but his eyes were kind and sparkling like the sun-soaked ocean.

„Private“, he reminded, and Harry swirled a curl around his finger, thinking it was only fair for him to ask some questions as well since David had been so direct (and nosing around inside Harry’s head like a truffle pig).

„Fine. Let me put it differently then: Are you here by choice?“

Suddenly, there was a suffocating silence between them, and David’s cigarette smoke was literally burning on Harry’s cheek. Or was it his own blood that simmered in his veins? Because David’s eyes were empty now, staring at the ground with his head hanging low, and Harry hated it, hated seeing the man like this and hating that he was the reason for that. He had a lump in his throat, one that was hard to swallow.

Harry wanted to take it all back and apologize, but David thwarted his plans by giving an honest answer.

„No.“

That was it. A single word that said it all. Though it were the shadows on David’s face that really revealed his pain while the invisible lock on his lips kept the unspoken truth sealed. Harry didn’t own the key to unlock all those secrets, and thought he could break it maybe, use force, he didn’t do it or try it, because it would be wrong. It would just make Harry a little bit more like his father.  
So he dropped the topic, giving up trying to get more information out of David, his hand ruffling through the mop of chestnut curls on top of his head, as if to chase away his intentions. Eyebrows drawn together, Harry gazed into the distance.

„You were right, when you said that I’ve got serious issues.“

David sighed, knowing right away that the lad was referring to their little heated argument on the parking lot after Harry got swallowed up by a huge wave. „Listen, I didn’t mean it like tha—.“

„No. You meant it, and you were right. Those issues are the reason I left home“, Harry interrupted him and downed his beer, and now it was David who stayed quiet, not moving while he looked at Harry.

Then, he stood up, causing Harry to raise his head a bit to glance up.

„Come“, David simply said, dropping his cigarette to step on it, the smoke caressing his foot before it finally died down, and Harry frowned, but nonetheless got up. He expected a lecture about red flags and how to respect them, because David’s piercing blue eyes were going through Harry like two bullets.

„I’m sorry, okay? No more private talk, I will—.“

„Stop apologizing. Just move your ass“, he instructed and went ahead, tossing his trash into a bin they passed, and Harry was struggling to figure out if David was angry or not.

Because as a matter of fact, they always somehow ended up engaging themselves in deep conversations, despite their rule. So was that the reason David seemed to be in a hurry, heading to his car?

So once Harry reached the black vehicle as well, he tried to make things right.

„David…“, he started, but suddenly, Harry’s back was pressed against the hard car door, body trapped between glass and David, who held his wrists firmly in his grip. Breath stuck in his throat, Harry stared into the other’s face, feeling his hot, smokey breath against his skin.

„I’ve told you to not call me that“, David almost growled, his words sharp like a knife, and it left Harry completely bewildered. _What the…_ Why was David so angry?

„Well, it’s your name“, Harry stated calmly, pressing himself against the door as his legs felt so much weaker with David looking like he was about to devour him. And then, a theory was born in Harry’s mind. Maybe he despised his own name because of the person who gave it to him. Something he was forced to carry with him, a burden, a reminder of the chains around his ankles and wrists, immortalized into his life like the tattoos on his arms.

„Donny.“

David’s frown was so deep it almost swallowed up his eyes, and Harry almost laughed out loud.

„What?“, David asked in confusion.

„Donny. I’ll call you Donny from now on. Because you’re from Doncaster“, Harry explained, and then it was David who laughed at last. He let go out the long-haired man, stepping aside and rubbing his face while he snickered into his hand. And just like that, David turned from _angry_ to _cute._

„You never fail to surprise me.“ David shook his head fondly, because that’s what Harry saw when David unlocked the car, the reflexion in the window giving away that heart-melting expression. Harry smiled.

„I can only return the compliment, _Donny_ “, he hummed and got into the passenger’s seat, buckling up as he looked at David and his compelling smirk. They might be two strangers, but deep down, they both knew that their souls had met before. Maybe somewhere in England — in a shop, a park, on the busy streets —or maybe they’ve met in another life. Whatever it was, Harry trusted in fate, and that they’d meet again after this, because Hawaii was just a chapter of their story, with many more to follow. Harry had to believe in that. He had to.

„Are we driving back to the hotel?“, Harry asked as he rolled his window down to feel the warm night wind against his arm, leaning back into the leather seat. Instead of answering right away, David clicked his tongue, and Harry knew that the lad had something else in mind.

„The night’s still young. And so are we.“

__

Oahu wasn’t just the third-largest of Hawaii’s islands, but also known as home to the main party beaches of Waikiki. It was as if this place was created to spend the most extravagant, electrifying and epic nights, with neon lights breaking the night sky and exotic drinks served in coconuts that washed away any inhibitions.

And right now, Harry and David were in one of those popular clubs.

_M Nightclub Beach_ was where David decided to spend the rest of the night, and Harry had no idea what the _M_ stood for, but by letting his gaze wander around the crowded club, he had a guess.

„I think I’ve only seen two women in here“, Harry said as they made their way through the crowd, not knowing if they headed to the bar or dance floor, because there were way too many people to gain an overview of his surroundings. Too many _men,_ to be exact.

David chuckled, or so Harry assumed. The loud music was blasting from every corner through numerous speakers, causing Harry’s eardrum to shake, as well as the blanket of plastic bubbles decorating the ceiling, each of them vibrating to the beat. What if one of those bubbles fell down and landed on his head? No one else seemed to care, too busy sipping on glowing blue gin that reminded Harry of David’s eyes.

„Relax, lad“, the man said, and even though he hadn’t had a drink yet, David seemed different, more boisterous and happy, like the rest of the crowd, willing to dance until late into the night. He smiled that breathtaking smile when he turned around to face Harry, the kind that made the corner of his eyes crinkle, pearl white teeth shining bright in the UV-light. And it was enough to melt Harry’s heart a little bit. Just a teeny, tiny bit. Okay, maybe more than that.

„It’s the best club here! You’ll have a fucking great time“, David promised, edging himself through the crowd until he reached the bar. Harry quickly grabbed his bicep, the muscle flexing under his touch as David met his gaze again.

„Uh, I think I don’t want any drinks.“ After last night, Harry certainly didn’t want to risk the chance of embarrassing himself in front of David again, let alone make him clean up his mess. And anyway, he was sick of alcohol for probably the next two years. The canned beer earlier had been definitely enough for the day.

But David just smirked, disappearing through the last wall of people to make his order, and Harry just hoped he wouldn’t come back with something too strong. _Please no tequila. Please no vodka._

„Here.“ David held two identical drinks in his hands, offering one to Harry, whose skeptical look made him laugh.

„Don’t worry, lad. It’s just coke. I have to drive.“ He took a sip of the sparkly brown liquid, and Harry smiled once he tasted the sweetness on his tongue, nodding.

„Good choice“, he muttered into his glass, eyes resting on David’s chest that caught the ‚78‘ tattoo peeking through the slightly transparent material of his dark tank top.

Before they passed the club’s security guards, Harry and David had stopped by their hotel to get changed, because no one wanted to sweat in the same clothes twice, even though the club’s sticky air was a big cloud of everyone’s scent, mixed with cigarette smoke, alcohol and sweat. A lot of sweat.

But somehow, it wasn’t bad or unpleasant, nor made it Harry want to leave, and maybe it was David’s outfit that was reason enough to stay.

The man from Doncaster looked good, the photoshoot-magazine-cover kind of _good._ Brown hair styled into a mess that seemed random yet perfect, with curly caramel ends framing those vibrant _oh-so_ blue eyes that were glowing in the dimmed party room. His walk — once they got out of the car — was determined and so casual, as if he’d own this place. And the long, dark grey tank top, which reached David’s thighs (which were dressed in black skinny jeans), had the perfect amount of fabric to take a firm grip with both hands,and as they walked towards the entrance, all Harry wanted to do was exactly that — burying his hands in both David’s floaty tank top and fluffy hair.

Right now, as they headed to the tables in the corner with the comfortable looking leather benches, Harry fought that urge again, as well as feeling those lips against his. He sat down and watched David drinking, and never in his life had he been more jealous of a glass than in this exact moment.

Harry wanted to ask if David had been here with his sister and best friend, back then when the three of them conquered the _Stairway to Heaven_ , or if he’d been here with someone else, but Harry swallowed the words down with his coke, fixing his own black skinny jeans under the table. He suppressed a little smile realizing that he and David were matching from the waist down, but unlike the other, Harry wore a patterned short-sleeve blouse with a low neckline revealing half of his chest, and it made Harry’s heart skip a beat whenever he caught David staring at his naked skin, probably looking at the tattoos peeking out, even though he already had seen them before on their first day together.

„You like it?“

Harry looked up at David, blushing a little as he had been staring at his inked arm the whole time.

„Excuse me?“ David chuckled, but the music drowned the sound of it, which was something Harry didn’t like at all.

„Do you like it here?“, he repeated his question, gesturing around, and Harry made a silent ‚ _Oh_ ‘, slowlyscanning his surroundings while ignoring the amused sparkle in David’s piercing eyes.

The club was huge.

Providing enough room for Oahu’s entire population it seemed, with the ceiling sky-high and a big patio overlooking the beach. It was hard to catch a glimpse, but Harry was able too see the many fairy lights decorating the patio, and he was thankful for the open double-door that let in a fresh breeze here and there, blowing through damp hair and heated skin. Skin that was bathed in pink, green, blue or purple under the many spotlights and lasers, and their pressed together bodies were swimming in the wonderfully carefree atmosphere. Everyone was glowing, radiating confidence and love — love for themselves, for the other people surrounding them, for living.  
The disco ball above their heads shining bright like the moon, spinning, glasses clinking, the music loud and roaring, and Harry watched how the crowd jumped on the spot, creating human waves breaking through the crowd. It was contagious, Harry feeling his stomach twist thinking of joining this pool of glorious fun.

„Yeah, I like it. First time I’m in a club actually“, he admitted, and David’s dumbfounded stare caused the back of Harry’s neck to burn. However, he wasn’t embarrassed of that, because he simply wasn’t your typical party-goer.

Too many eyes on him, too many people knowing who he was, with cameras lurking around every corner, determined to take a snapshot of Desmond Style’s son. He wouldn’t be able to relax, not in London, where rumors spread around like a wild fire, and where gossip magazines would print revealing headlines including the name ‚Styles‘.

No, the contras prevented Harry to visit London’s much sought-after night clubs. Besides, he never truly understood the concept of getting drunk and dancing to ear-shattering music, but sooner or later, he’d understand.

„Seriously?“, David asked in disbelief, leaning closer to catch Harry’s answer, their knees gently bumping into one another.

„Don’t judge me. I’ve never found it… appealing“, Harry explained, telling half the truth, shrugging and sipping on his drink, noticing two couples making out opposite of them. Or maybe they were strangers to each other, just like Harry and David were, and they drank way too many cocktails, causing them to forget about red flags and rules.

Harry averted his gaze, instead, he was mentally preparing for David’s teasing, which was surely coming in 3…2…1…

„Fucking hell. Compared to me, you’re the exemplary church boy.“

Harry frowned, but he had to chuckle at his words. „What?“

„I mean… I’m smoking, I was the first one to suck you off, made you drink alcohol, and now we’re here. I’m literally ruining you“, David hummed, and Harry couldn’t tell if the other man was proud or feeling guilty, because that stupid smirk wouldn’t leave his lips.

„Donny, I’m 26 years old. And I don’t think that smoking alone makes you the anti-Christ“, Harry teased fondly. „Besides, I’ve wanted it. You weren’t seducing me or anything.“

David wiggled his eyebrows. „But I could if I’d want to.“

Harry glared at him playfully, though his heart was secretly hammering against his ribcage, feeling defenceless all of a sudden, because David opened his mouth to say more, and Harry was already a sucker for his melodic voice.

„You don’t find partying appealing, but you find _me_ appealing enough to come anyway.“

Harry’s cheeks caught fire. _Isn’t it obvious?_ , Harry wanted to remark, but David rested his arm on the bench’s backrest, right behind his head, and all Harry could think of was imagining those rough yet smooth fingertips tracing the curve of his neck. He shuddered a little.

He wanted to cuddle into his side so badly, wanted to show David _how_ appealing he found him, stealing a few sweet kisses while brushing his messy fringe aside to expose those beautiful ocean-eyes, showering him with affection as they sat under cover of this dark corner. Harry could think of a thousand things he wanted to do, but he did none of them, too scared to fall deeper for the man.

Then, David grabbed Harry’s glass to put it on the table.

„You need to loosen up, lad. You’re thinkingway too much under those pretty curls… forget the past and live in the here and now.“

Harry blinked, not able to say anything as David had already taken a hold of his hand,dragging him towards the dance floor. And so, that’s what they did at last — embracing the here and now and forgetting about the dark shadows in their lives.

Because right now, they were surrounded by light. Colorful, blinding flashes of neon light, guiding them through the night.

And Harry let go, dancing as if there was no tomorrow, as if every song made him fly higher and higher. He looked up, ringed hands in the air, while the electric music controlled his movements, gave him instructions, and his body just listened by doing what felt right. What felt good.  
And even though he wasn’t the best dancer, no one seemed to care, no one had the time to judge as they were all busy performing their own imperfect dances, and Harry’s wide, boyish smile was shining the brightest.

David was by his side the whole time, which really amazed Harry, because of the new party guests joining the dance floor who constantly pushed and shoved David. But he was still there, like a rock.

He had his hands up as well, cigarette captured between his lips which he had lighted with a champagne bottle sparkler that someone had walked around with. He was loud — David— roaring and yelling in pure excitement when the DJ played a certain song or made confetti rain down on them, sparkly golden and silver flakes swirling in the air. One of them got caught on his cheekbone and eyelashes, and Harry was reaching to brush it away, because fate had give him this opportunity, a sign, but David had already wiped it off, so Harry hoped for another confetti explosion.

Until then, Harry would occasionally bump into David or someone else, accidentally hitting a few people with his elbow when he fixed his long hair, the back of his neck feeling sticky after four or five songs, and six more later, Harry felt a pair of hands holding his hips. _Finally._

His body was tired, but the adrenaline pumping though his veins, plus David’s hands on him were giving Harry wings, ignited a fire that had been close to die down.

A new song filled the room, making people cheer and bawl out the lyrics to a remix of _I Wanna Dance With Somebody_. 

„ **Oh, I wanna dance with somebody  
****I wanna feel the heat with somebody**  
**Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody**  
**With somebody who loves me!** “

They all sang around Harry, and David was right — he was having a fucking great time. 

The air was vibrating, tingling on his sweaty skin, and they melted into this party, melted into the heat, the beat of the music until their exhausted bodies would call for the luxury of sleeping in a comfortable bed.

So Harry swayed his hips to Whitney Houstan’s singing as if he’d done it a million times before, smiling at the thought that David was his _somebody._ Oh, he’d dance all night long just to keep having his hands on him.

Harry opened his eyes, not realizing he had been closing them at some point, freezing when he looked straight into David’s tense face.

Within a split second, Harry’s heart dropped, for two reasons — one: the anger on David’s face was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen, and two: those hands on his hips didn’t belong to David.

Harry turned around and was met with a tall blonde guy, who was even taller than him, his bulky shoulders almost ripping his white t-shirt. The shit-eating grin on his face was reason enough for Harry to get away, but due to the limited space, it didn’t really work out.

„Hey…“, the stranger murmured into his ear and it raised all his hackles.

„No thanks“, Harry quickly replied, shaking his head to signal the guy that he wasn’t interested, but instead of letting go, the stranger dug his fingernails into Harry’s hips and pulled him closer. He hissed.

„Oi!“, David called out, stepping forward. „He’s with me. So get your paws off of him and chuff off.“

If the atmosphere hadn’t been heated before, it surely was now. And Harry saw it all before his inner eye, saw the two of them fighting on the dirty floor, their fists punching in sync to the beat of the music, golden confetti sticking to the blood on David’s face, and people would scream in horror instead of glee.

But somehow, it didn’t happen.

It was a miracle, Harry thought, when the blonde guy was just mumbling something under his breath and left them alone, getting swallowed by the crowd. David, however, still stared at the direction the guy had disappeared, shaking his head while taking a long drag of his cigarette, clearly needing the nicotine to calm his nerves.

„Fucking twat…Doesn’t just looks like the arse end of a donkey, but is one“, David ranted, his accent really heavy, and somehow, Harry couldn’t help put admire that. Before the lad had the chance to spit out other curses, Harry wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face in the crook of David’s neck. And then, it was David’s warm hand that rested on the small of Harry’s back, the touch bringing a smile to his face, making Harry wonder if David could feel it against his skin. Could feel what Harry felt.

Because Harry was his. Even though it was just for tonight.

Every fibre of his body, every laugh and frown, his voice and heart and soul — it all belonged to David tonight. If he only knew. But maybe he did.

The way he stood up for him, the anger blazing in his eyes when he saw someone else touching Harry… was that jealousy? And if it was, did it mean that David felt _something_ for him? Something that could flourish into a strong feeling that was powerful enough to overcome and break this agreement between them they had sealed at the beach at night?

Harry sighed. Hope was a foolish thing.

It never listened to your brain, but rather your heart; ignored the warning signs and gladly walked the thin wire of a fantasy — your fantasy —, only for it to snap and make you fall down the abyss called _reality_.

The impact merciless and devastating, cold and rough. And no matter how often you’ve experienced it, no matter how often you have fallen, you’d make the same mistake over and over again.

Not because the impact had made you stronger over the time, but because the pain living in your reality was worse than the pain of getting your hopes crushed.

Reality was that bitch at every party that would steal your crush, making out with him in front of your eyes, showing the world how meaningless you were. And that bitch had been just chased off by David.

Harry’s smile grew wider, especially when David lead him towards the club’s patio.

The night breeze was warm and refreshing, allowing them to take a deep breath.

„I literally thought you’d end up fighting with him“, Harry shared as he leaned against the glass railing with his arms, hearing David scoff who stood right next to him, back facing the beach.

„It wouldn’t have ended well for him then, I tell you.“

David’s confidence was just as mesmerizing as reckless. In no way did he had a chance against this beefcake that looked like he’d spend most of his time in a gym, and it wouldn’t surprise him if he’d be sipping on a protein shake somewhere in the club instead of a _Margarita_.

But Harry kept this thought to himself, not daring to piss David off, so he nodded and smiled.

„You definitely scared him away“, Harry hummed, trying to catch the sound of the crashing waves, but it was impossible with all the lively chit chat around him.

It was silent for moment between them, and Harry simply enjoyed the background noises without thinking about anything, he just existed, which was kind of peaceful.

„I was doing the right thing…“, David started hesitantly, causing Harry to slowly turn his face away from the beach. „… right?“

It caught him a little off guard Harry had to admit, because was David actually considering that he enjoyed getting groped by that stranger?

„Of course you did the right thing. I’m glad you helped me“, Harry assured.

„Okay, good.“ David took his cigarette between his fingers, which had become a short stub by now, very close to burn his skin, but he still kept a hold of it while fixing his hair, and Harry watched worriedly if any ash fell onto the lad’s head.

„Because… well, you didn’t do anything when he touched you“, David said, and it was obvious that it was something that irritated him, as it irritated Harry for him bringing it up.

„Well, because I had my eyes closed. And because I thought it was you.“

David dropped his cigarette, and Harry was sure that he didn’t do it on purpose, but nonetheless, he stepped on it.

„That explains everything.“

In a way, it did explain everything indeed. Explained why Harry was glad that he was sober, because otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to remember every little detail of this moment. How the warm glow of the tangled fairy lights above their heads turned David into the most precious treasure on earth — with his face in sculpted gold and eyes made of brilliant sapphires, brushing silky cinnamon hair so elegantly aside that Harry got weak in the knees.

He leaned closer to the man, gravitated towards his effortless beauty.

„Are you cold?“, David asked and Harry smiled (or maybe he smirked) lazily, resting his chin on his shoulder.

„I’m freezing“, he lied, and David knew it, because when he wrapped an arm around Harry — pulling him closer and against his sweaty chest — their burning skins collided, igniting a blazing fire. But David didn’t say anything, just his low chuckle told Harry that he saw through his tactic.

So they stood there, all snuggled up, pretending the night was cold. And they enjoyed the view and this little moment that no one could take away from them, a moment they’d keep in their hearts. 

„By the way, did I say something to you yesterday, you know, when I was drunk?“, Harry asked quietly, his lower lip touching David’s top as he talked. His memories were still a little hazy when it came to last night, not remembering a word he might have said to David when they were at the hotel’s bar, which was a little unsettling.

„Nothing of importance.“ The slightly delated answer made Harry’s alarm go off.

„Really?“

„Yeah.“ David looked down, chin tucked in to make eye-contact. „Why do you ask?“

Harry shrugged. „I don’t know. Maybe I’ve told you my bank details, or the story of my whole life“, he joked, holding his breath when David’s gentle laugh vibrated deep in his chest, trying to find his heartbeat with his ear.

„Trust me, it is more likely that you’ve forgotten your bank details and name rather than telling me such confidential information in that state of mind.“

„Fine, okay. But I’ll check my account anyway.“ David pinched Harry’s side, enough to make the taller man squeak. „Now you’re taking the piss out of me, aren’t, ya?“, David mumbled fondly, pulling Harry back against his side. _False alarm._

„Thank you“, Harry whispered after a minute or two, his eyes closed, but he could feel David’s eyes on him. Could feel his slight confusion, and how his fingers touched his hair.

„There’s confetti“, David explained as he kept fumbling, until there was a small pause before Harry felt the other tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. His heart screamed for more.

„Still confetti there?“, Harry teased quietly, blaming David for this new characteristic he had developed in the last three days. But instead of answering, the other lad just ruffled Harry’s hair, destroying the styled mop of wavy curls on top of his head.

„Shut up.“ And that was it. A perfect little break from the never-ending party inside, spent on a bright patio with a salty ocean breeze, two heartwarming smiles, and a million stars in the night sky.

Harry never wanted it to end, but when David suggested to get back inside, he didn’t refuse, because Harry felt so high again, boosted by his new hopes that had been fueled by David’s affection, and everything was so so perfect. Except one thing.

David’s phone rang.  
  


_No, no, no, no._ Not this time, Harry thought. They were supposed to have fun, to let go and dance until dawn — moving their bodies to electric beats, sweaty skin glistening in neon lights, celebrating life, celebrating being young and free.

So Harry wrapped his arms around David’s neck, meeting his frown. „I love this song!“, he lied, pretending to know it by swaying his hips to the beat. But David reached into his pocket, and Harry — out of reflex — grabbed the lad’s wrist, which put a deeper frown on David’s face.

„Don’t“, Harry pleaded, even though it was way too loud in the club to hear him. He hoped that his pleading look would be enough to change David’s mind. It didn’t.

With daggers in his blue eyes, he got his phone out and checked the display, and Harry knew — even before David started to turn away — that the night was over.

„Where are you going?!“, Harry yelled, grabbing the end of David’s tank top, but he teared his arm away, staring back with rage. _Fuck_.

„This is important, okay?!“, David hissed and shook his head, as if he disapproved of Harry’s behavior, as if he was saying ‚no' to all of _this_.

This agreement between them that David didn’t want in the first place, and was now regretting. Harry saw it, and it hurt, more than he thought it would. All he could do was to stand there between dancing bodies, watching David drifting away, escaping from this sea of alcohol, sweat and explosive music.

And Harry was alone, drowning, deeper and deeper. Why had breathing become so hard now?

He tried to ignore this suffocating feeling by focusing on the next song, which seemed to be a chaotic combination of blasting beats and effects. Harry hated it, but he needed it.

So he allowed it to fill his head, pushing David aside and the nagging voice that reminded him of Gemma, and that he hadn’t replied to her yet. Harry pushed it all away, ever single bad thing that seemed to come crashing down on him now, like a house of cards. David’s leave caused a domino effect, but Harry wasn’t having it. He focused on everything around him, the noises, the scents, the lights. _Out of sight, out of mind_.

However, what were you supposed to do when things were already stuck in your mind?  
  
„Looks like your bodyguard left you.“

Harry suddenly felt a hand pressed against his waist and he spun around, looking straight into that shit-eating grin he had despised earlier. The guy must have sensed his chance and was now more confident than ever with David being gone.

„What’s wrong, gorgeous?“, he asked, his blonde slicked back hair dripping in way too much hair wax, and the smell reminded Harry of shoe polish. He scrunched his nose.

„Sorry, I’m taken“, Harry said and made his way towards the exit. It was the first white lie that came up to his mind, which was easier to chose than explaining this guy that he simply wasn’t interested. A wounded ego usually paved the way for trouble. And Harry had enough of that.

He stepped out of the building, apologizing to a group of girls he had accidentally bumped in when he pulled out his phone. Harry looked around, the area in front of the entrance still crowded with people who wanted to get inside, sparkly dresses and shiny shoes everywhere, but no sign of David. No tattoos or intimidating blue eyes.

Harry almost smacked his forehead as he realized that he didn’t have David’s phone number, really wishing he had it though, so Harry could call or text him, asking him where he was, because right now, the night seemed cold without David by his side.

He kept scanning the street, looking out for people that were on the phone, and as he walked around, passing strangers with their devices pressed against their ears, he came to the unavoidable conclusion that he had to text Gemma back.

Harry stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath, opening their chat and clenching his jaw at the familiar picture which showed his sister and Liam at the café.

The longer he started at it, the more anxious Harry felt. He was scared of the truth, no doubt, but living in uncertainty would drive him completely crazy someday. So Harry sought privacy in a small alley between the club and the neighboring restaurant, slowly typing his answer.

_Coffee here just tastes bitter without you., 11:23 PM_

_Hey, Gem! I really miss you guys, and our coffee dates. How are you and Liam?, 9:02 PM_

He sent it, releasing a breath he had been holding.

To others, it might be no big deal, but to Harry, it took all of his courage to do this, because David was right — he was thinking way too much under his pretty curls, and he really hated it. But facing his fear felt kind of rewarding, his pounding heart started to calm down and his sweaty palms turned dry again. However, when he saw that Gemma was online in that exact moment and read her brother’s reply, Harry wanted to smash his phone against the brick wall. His eyes were glued on the display, and then she typed.

What time was it in London? Probably early in the morning. 6 am? 7 am?

„Here you are!“

Harry flinched hard at the loud voice behind him, roaring like thunder in his ears, and just when he was about to turn around, Harry was pressed against the wall.

„You think you’re better than me, huh?“ Fuck, this wasn’t David. This was Mr. Wounded-Ego.

Harry winced as the bricks were boring into his cheek, tasting the dirt on his lips while the guy used his whole body to push Harry further against the wall. He panicked, trying to fight his way out, but the more he struggled, the tighter the grip around his wrists became. His knuckles were tightly pressed against his lower back, held in place, and judging by the guy’s heavy snort, he wasn’t planning to let go any time soon.

„Fire!“, Harry yelled.„Hel—!“

„Shut your fucking mouth!“, the guy hissed after he covered Harry’s mouth with one hand, and this was his chance. With only one hand left to hold him against the wall, Harry stepped with full force onto the guy’s foot, thanking his past self for choosing shoes with a heel.

„Fuck!“

Harry — as soon as the grip around him loosened — dropped onto his knees to crawl away, past the bulk of muscles, but he yelped in pain when a strong hand took an even stronger hold of his long hair, tearing him up.

„So you like it rough, yeah? No problem.“

Where was David? Wasn’t he supposed to save him? Because he was always the one who protected him. No matter if Harry was drowning under a huge wave, or unable to care for himself after emptying half the hotel bar, or slipping on a dangerous hike and falling… it was David who caught him, who cared for him. So why wasn’t he showing up when Harry needed him the most?

Because Harry was facing a real fucking violent man, who clearly had some anger issues, and he didn’t want to think of his most likely existing criminal history.

Then, Harry’s phone vibrated inside his back pocket, feeling it for sure as he was sitting on it and on the ground, back against the wall now, with the stranger hovering over him like a predator. He growled threats, things he was going to do with Harry, and the only thought that Harry clung to was the one telling him that he would never read Gemma’s answer.

One sloppy kiss to his neck, that was all the guy could do before he was pushed onto his side. Harry’s eyes widened in both surprise and shock, having no time to process what was happening while David kicked into the stranger over and over, showing no mercy for the curled man on the dirty ground.

He cursed, spat on him, hit him more, cursed, knelt down to punch his face until his knuckles bled. It was scary, and when a crack cut the air, Harry knew that David had broken his nose. He wanted to tell him to stop, but Harry didn’t need to, because David — once he was finished — grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him up, pulled him out of the alley and towards his car where he pushed him right into the passenger’s seat.

Harry’s heart was racing, but probably not as fast as David’s. He could literally see the vein on his neck pulsating, heart struggling to pump the blood through his veins, but the adrenalin made it possible. He was panting heavily, as if he’d run a marathon, but David’s bloody knuckles were proof that the reason for his state wasn’t a sporting competition.

„A-Are… are you okay?“, Harry asked when David started driving, his voice shaking, just like his hands, taking him forever to fasten his seat belt. But David didn’t answer. He rushed through the street, past the clubs and the city’s temptations, going clearly over the speed limit with one goal in mind, and that was to either get away from this place as fast as possible, or to cause a car accident. Harry prayed he wasn’t going for the last option.

„David! S-Stop, please… you need to calm down“, Harry tried, but David shook his head while his eyes were focused on the traffic.

„Calm down? You want me to fucking calm down?!“

The tone in his voice was terrifying and made Harry sink deeper into the leather of his seat.It was cold and cruel, whipping his face like the wind of the furious winter sea, and for a moment, it felt as if his anger was made for Harry.

„How can you be so fucking naive! So stupid!“

Harry frowned deeply, looking at David.

„What?“

„That fucking shithead was fucking dangerous! Why’d you think it would be a good idea to meet him in a dark alley?!“

Something clicked, and it made Harry’s blood boil.

„What…? Are you trying to say that I’ve wanted it? That I’ve actually wanted this?“

David scoffed loudly.

„Why not?! It’s no secret that you want to get fucked, but I wouldn’t have thought that you’d be _this_ desperate to take the first dick that crosses your path!“

Harry’s eyes burnt. He pressed his lips into a thin line, his hand moving to the door knob.

„Stop the car.“

„What?“ David glanced at Harry for a moment, eyes still filled with a raging thunderstorm, not even thinking of slowing down. „So you can walk back to that twat?“

„Stop the fucking car!“

In a matter of seconds, Harry had unbuckled himself and was opening the car door, forcing David to hit the breaks hard. The tires squeaking was piercing, echoing through the dead of night, and David bashed the steering wheel with his fist, hitting the horn.

„Are you out of your fucking mind?!“, David yelled, but Harry turned away from him, wiping his eyes.

„I don’t need to be treated like that.“

That being said, Harry left the car with wobbly knees, slamming the door shut and walking to the pavement. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as he made it safely to the other side, followed by even more when he heard David driving away.

Hope was such a fucking foolish thing.


	7. VI

Harry had never felt so lost.

Walking by himself in the middle of the night, the moon and the stars were his only companion in a city full of people. A city that was thriving, bustling and so alive, a city known as the beating heart of Hawaii, and a city that didn’t care for his pain.

Because no matter where Harry went — if he passed a drug store, a restaurant or a park —there was always a cheerful laughter resounding from every corner, along with howling sirens somewhere far away. The laughter didn’t reach his heart, sounded so foreign in his ears, like a fading memory of what he used to know when he was happy. But Harry wasn’t happy right now. He was hurt, and broken, and so so lost.

After he had left David’s car, Harry decided to wander around aimlessly until his tears would dry. He let himself be carried by the wind that grew stronger and stronger, causing the trees around him to shake and rustle. A storm was coming. Dark clouds filled the night sky, proclaiming their power by swallowing up every little soldier of the moon, and darkness — eventually — took over. So Harry was alone again.

He tried to forget about the things that had happened, but vivid images of a shoe polish smelling tyrant and an angry, yelling David were haunting Harry’s mind without mercy, rubbing salt into his wound and unleashed even more tears.

Tears that were seemingly made of steel, turning his eyes into two foreign objects by feeling so unbelievably heavy, a green forest drowning in bloodshot veins. Harry sniffed and wiped his eyes with the hem of his shirt which was already damp.

He should just forget about him. Shouldn’t let himself getting so affected by a stranger he only knew for a few days. Why was Harry so fixated on David anyway? Why couldn’t he just banish him from his mind _and_ life?  
The truth was as simple as sad, because Harry — within the last 26 years of his being — had never felt for a person like he did for David. Hadn’t met someone before who took his heart by storm like David did.

This man, with all his facets, who could be as gentle as the lazy morning breeze and as explosive as a hurricane, had blinded Harry with glimmers of hope. 

Because Harry believed in fate, maybe a bit too much.

He thought that everything had a purpose, and therefore assumed that the universe had finally decided to balance out the bad in his life with something good, or _someone_ good.

Someone who would tease him in order to make him smile; who would show him the beauty of the world, just to help him realize that true beauty wasn’t touchable, wasn’t a place, but rather the awareness of happiness that can be found in little things — paying for a small drink and getting a large, popping bubble wrap, singing to your favourite song on the radio, and having the lift doors slide open the second you pushed the button. Harry thought he would experience all of these things with David. Pretty naive, wasn’t he?

Instead of asking Harry why he had been pressed against the wall by this guy, David had already formed his own conclusion, and right now, Harry regretted that he didn’t replied to David’s words with ‚ _You’ve got some serious issues if you truly believe I did this on purpose_ ‘, giving him a taste of his own medicine. But as usual, those perfect comebacks tend to come to mind when it was too late.

It didn’t matter anyway, because David was going to leave tomorrow, and Harry wouldn’t be the one fighting for them if there was nothing to fight for.

 _But there is_ , a voice deep down inside of him protested, probably coming from his heart. He wished he could just rip it out and leave it on the pavement, so he didn’t have to go through all those times again David had wrapped Harry round his finger.

Be dammed those stupid ocean eyes.

This arrogant smirk.

Those soft lips.

Harry didn’t need him. He needed an ice lolly, and Niall’s joyful laughter and beaming smile that could cure anything.

The Irish man would tell him to look at the bright side while patting his back, offering him a shoulder to cry on, before he’d ramble on that one time he’d visited a club and accidentally grabbed the boobs of his date’s sister because they swapped outfits and looked identical from behind. The thought made the corners of Harry’s mouth twitch. He really adored those random anecdotes of Niall’s chaotic life.

When he paid for his ice lolly in a kiosk — after walking for half an hour —, Harry was still shaking a little from tonight’s events, and the woman behind the counter scanned his face with a scrutinizing look. She probably thought that he was a junkie going through withdrawal, but then, she reached over and gave him a piece of candy, wrapped in shiny red paper. 

She smiled. „Something sweet for your salty tears“, the woman hummed with friendly, crinkled eyes, the eyes of a mother, and Harry took the little gift into his large hand. He thanked her and found himself outside on the windy streets again, his long curls dancing in all directions, forcing Harry to fix them non-stop. However, due to the change of weather, his tears definitely dried quicker, and once he had put his hair up into a loose bun, Harry enjoyed his ice lolly that tasted of watermelon and sugary comfort.

The candy was safely stowed away in his jeans pocket, and the tight fit made the little gift press into his skin, reminding Harry of the sweet gesture while he walked towards a beach he had spotted. It wasn’t the same one where he’d been skinny dipping with David, and for that, Harry was grateful. It would only make him feel more sad and more bitter.

Once there, he sat down on the cool sand, staring at the roaring ocean and watching the waves break in the distance, filling the silence of the night with whooshing and hissing water.  
Harry didn’t know how long he sat there, the wooden popsicle stick resting between his fingers for a while now as the ocean had seemed to hypnotize him. He wondered if all the tears that had been shed throughout history would be enough to replace all the water in the world, if all those tears combined could fill an empty ocean. But Harry pushed that thought away, sighing when he realized his heart was still tormented by sadness. So he laid back on the sand, doing the one and only thing that never failed to help him. And Harry was lucky, because the wall of clouds broke and allowed a glimpse of the tiny little stars, making his body relax.

_Nothing. He was nothing. He was trivial, and so were his problems._

One day, he’d be gone with all his baggage, all his memories and thoughts, becoming one of those dead stars in the sky that would remain for many following lives. His existence only lasted the blink of an eye among this 14 billion years old universe — and that — was terrifying, yet comforting in a weird twisted way.

Harry felt calm.

Until he heard scrunchy footsteps approaching him.

Instantly, Harry’s muscles tightened as he listened to the other person coming closer, and while he prayed that it wasn’t a certain someone, Harry was proven once more that the universe was against him.

„I’m sorry.“

That were his first words.

_I’m sorry._

It was nowhere near enough to make up for the pain David had caused, Harry thought at first. Not enough to fix the broken pieces. But maybe Harry was beyond repair, had been since the day he left home. However, it didn’t undo the hurtful words David had spat into his face, throwing grenades at him and leaving Harry behind on a battlefield he had created out of false assumptions.

The anger came back, but Harry was emotionally too exhausted to show it. David was crouching down next to him, he could see the outlines of his thigh and hips from the corner of his eye, tattooed arms resting on his knees while his hands fumbled with something, hopefully not a cigarette.

„Shouldn’t you be packing?“, Harry mumbled without any trace of emotion in his deep voice. He was still upset, and David should be reminded of that. Which worked as a quiet sigh was leaving his lips.

„I rescheduled my flight. I’m going back home on Sunday night“, David said, and Harry frowned, causing the other to explain his decision.

„A storm arrived. And I don’t want to leave before it hasn’t settled down.“

This was bullshit. It was windy, yes, but not to a level it would actually cause flights to have safety issues. But the longer Harry thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that David’s words had another meaning, and that realization soothed Harry a little. If David was willingly to stay one more day for Harry, maybe he’d also stay forever.

Harry looked up at the man, meeting his eyes again since their little heated argument in the car, and he was met with a clear blue sky. No clouds. No anger.

„You were different…“, Harry started and sat up hesitantly, brushing off the sand that covered his neck before he looked down at his crossed legs. He could sense David’s confusion, but he needed a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued.

„I don’t… jump in the sack with the first guy I see, I’m not like that. But when I’ve spotted you at the bar back then, you just fascinated me. We talked, you laughed that contagious laugh and got so worked up over that football game. It was nice, and it felt right. And yes, I’ve wanted to have my first time with a man, but I wanted it with _you_ , and not with that nasty guy from the club.“

Sharing that with David made Harry feel vulnerable, but he figured out it would only lead to nowhere if he kept letting the anger and pain nibble on his feelings. This was life, shit happened all the time, and having David come looking for him and apologize was a step in the right direction. So it was Harry’s turn to take a step as well.

After he said what he said, Harry counted the seconds of silence in his head. Around 10 seconds of absolute nothing, he was contemplating to just go away, but then David moved at last, rubbing his face roughly and Harry raised his head to watch him.

„Did he hurt you?“, David suddenly asked, and Harry could read him like an open book, knew that he’d get back to finish what he’d started if Harry said ‚yes‘. The blood on his knuckles had dried by now, but the thirst for vengeance was still fresh.

David looked like a mess, and not in the good way.

So Harry shook his head in response. He reached out to take one of David’s hands carefully, trying to chase away the demons the man seemed to fight with, their voices telling him things he didn’t want to hear, blaming him, but whatever it was, Harry was determined to bring peace for the rest of the night.

„No. You were there on time.“ Harry’s heart dropped when David gave him a pained look.

„I’ve made you cry“, he pointed out, staring into his bloodshot eyes that were probably still swollen. Harry shrugged though, as if it was not worth mentioning, as if it was water under the bridge, because it somehow was.

„I was sad and angry, yes. You assumed that I’ve wan—.“

„I’m sorry! I know it was wrong, and I shouldn’t have said those things“, David interrupted him, squeezing Harry’s hand. „I wasn’t myself. Was in a bad mood already before I found you in the alley.“

Harry listened and understood. „The phone call?“, he guessed, remembering the reason why David had left him on the dance floor, and he nodded. Harry didn’t want to push this topic, but he was pretty sure that it was the same person that had called David in his hotel room before. Whoever it was, he or she was making David suffer, making him worry.

And then, and all of a sudden, it hit Harry like lightening — the possibility of a controlling boyfriend waiting in grey Doncaster. _Could it be?_ Was that the reason why David didn’t want _more_?

„Harry…“, David sighed as he fully faced him, thumb caressing the back of Harry’s hand, but the touch didn’t reach him, only his sight made him aware of it.

„I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t want to get your hopes up, because I can’t give you what you want.“

_Ouch._

What started as some harmless lightening, turned rather quickly into a destructive shower of asteroidal fragments. Too quickly.

Harry’s mouth felt dry. He had completely dismissed this possibility, too busy being happy in his tiny little bubble because David had agreed on spending the days with him. Harry should’ve known it. _Fuck._

David’s condition on not sharing any private information, not contacting each other or trying to find the other after their time in Hawaii was actually the biggest red flag ever.

So big, an astronaut would be able to see it from outer space, while Harry had been blinded by his hopes and dreams to even see a snippet of it. He wanted to stick his head into the beach’s powdery sand, wanted to disappear.

„You don’t know me…“, Harry mumbled. „So how can you be sure what I want?“

David’s thumb came to a stop, and he seemed to hesitate.

„Because you’ve told me.“

Harry pulled his hand away. „Told you? Told you what?“ He couldn’t recall a time he had told him what he wanted, not anything that would include David, and he didn’t spill his deepest thoughts when he was drunk last night, because David assured he didn’t say anything of importan— Oh. _Of course. Of fucking course._

„Last night, at the bar“, David admitted, and his expression was guilty. There was a heavy silence between both men, filled with desire and despair; innocence and regret; wrong and right. They were like two magnets, either attracting or repelling each other, depending on the situation. But right now, none of them was moving. Not an inch closer, and not an inch away. They were frozen in time.

David knew. And Harry knew that David knew. The cards were on the table; well, Harry’s cards; but hadn’t it been pretty obvious from the start? David was the one with the power face, not Harry. Harry was the one who had staked everything on one card and lost.

No paying for a small drink and getting a large.

No popping bubble wrap.

No singing to his favourite song on the radio.

And no having the lift doors slide open the second he pushed the button.

Harry would never experience those happy little moments with David by his side, with David being his.

Because maybe, and most likely, there was already someone out there who was David’s.

„Forget it“, Harry said, taking the man’s hand again that had become so cold since he let go of him. „Forget what I’ve said last night. Yesterday doesn’t matter. Tomorrow doesn’t matter. All that counts is the here and now.“

Did that make Harry a bad person? To desire David despite being aware that he could be already taken? Gemma would scold him, no doubt. She would appeal to his conscience and the damage he might cause with his selfishness. And Harry would normally agree. Normally.

Because Gemma didn’t feel what Harry felt for David, and how could he give up on that? How could he let go of those two days that were yet to come, providing him a beautiful illusion that brought him happiness? And who said that David wouldn’t change his mind in the end?

 _Welcome back, false hopes._ _Here we go again._

There was no denying that Harry was addicted to David. He was his personal drug, making him come back for more, and like any other addict, it made Harry ignore the risks, the damage he might cause to himself and others. He was high. Too high to come down. Just two more nights of being a fool. Two more nights of being a bad person.

Harry looked into the eyes that were his downfall, and saw a future he’d never have, saw the same struggle.

„It was never my intention to hurt you“, David breathed, and it almost made Harry cry again, so he swallowed his tears down.

„I know.“

A thousand thoughts ran through his mind when David suddenly stood up, helping Harry to get on his feet as well, their intertwined hands resting between their bodies, but not for long as David rested his on Harry’s waist, making him gently sway from side to side. It took him a moment to realize what he was doing.

„Dancing?“, Harry asked close to the man’s ear, feeling irritated and amused at the same time, the shadows on their faces slowly disappearing.

„Dancing“, David confirmed, his voice carrying the same amount of amusement.

„With no music?“

„We don’t need music. We need no special effects, no drinks, and most importantly no sweaty people surrounding and squeezing us“, he said with the intention to lighten up the mood.

„All we need is us. And the moon.“

Harry chuckled into the crook of David’s neck, smelling his cologne that was blending with his own scent, a mixture of warm cinnamon and leather. It was comforting, like the little piece of candy that was still in his pocket.

And so, after a rather eventful day, they ended up dancing together under the moonlight, the wind blowing their fears away, while Harry let David guide him, moving as if their bodies were connected through invisible threads. Every step and every turn followed David, he was the conductor, and Harry his composition, his melody. And even though it was a sad melody, even though he might not be perfect, their dance nothing special, the moment was. It was perfect. Enough to dry Harry’s tears for the rest of the night.

Speaking of the rest of the night, Harry spent it in his own hotel room, alone.

After David had driven them back to the hotel, they went straight to the lift, whose metallic doors slid open the moment Harry had pushed the button. A group of people swarmed out, one of them bumping into Harry and making him stumble, but David caught him by taking his hand quickly (this man had some impressive reflexes), and since then — and not until they hadn’t reached Harry’s hotel room — David did not let go. Their hands were glued together, fitting like two puzzle pieces, and it took all of Harry’s composure to not read anything different than a simple touch into it.

By the time he laid in his bed, Harry could still feel David’s warmth against his skin, and he decided to concentrate on that, rather than the time that was running out on them.

If he was lucky, he’d wake up the next morning with the realization that everything had been a dream, that there was nothing separating him from David, no red flags and no tears needed to cry over a lost love.

Love.

It could have been love if things had turned out differently.

__

Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t very lucky the next morning, which came as no surprise.

Not only did he wake up to the painful memory of David telling him he couldn’t give him what he wanted, but also to a persistent (and far too noisy) knock at the door.

Harry groaned.

He rolled onto his stomach to bury his face and ears into the pillow, but the knocking didn’t stop. Since he figured out that it must be room service (even though it was way too early judging by the sleepy morning sky), he decided to ignore it.

David wasn’t an option after all, because he’d be busy half the day. _Business_ , he called it last night.

So whoever was standing behind the door and knocked like a maniac, wouldn’t make Harry leave his comfortable bed. Or to put it another way — that was the plan.

Because somehow, and much to Harry’s disfavour, the other person won.

Just as he opened the door with the intention to remind the disturber of the ungodly hour to make such noise, Harry shut his mouth when he spotted Niall in front of him, who was wearing a tray full of breakfast and a smile full of joy.

„Harry!“

„Niall“, he mumbled dumbfounded, stepping aside when the other marched into the room like a soldier, fulfilling his mission of blinding Harry with his pearl white teeth.

„Good morning! I thought I’d bring you breekie, you know, to make up for yesterday. Didn’t mean to leave you behind on the golf course. Sorry, mate“, Niall said and hummed while he looked for the perfect spot to put down the tray. Harry closed the door, frowning.

„Why do you know my room number?“

He was pretty sure that it had never been a topic of their previous conversations, but Niall — who had placed the tray on the bedside table and was now standing with both hands in the pockets of his dark navy dress pants; who looked like he had just jumped out of a fashion magazine with his blue and white striped t-shirt tugged in, the undone buttons allowing a glimpse of his white undershirt as well as some light chest hair; who completed this casual-chic outfit with a pair of elegant black loafers with golden details and a matching watch— just shrugged, which made the fluffy chocolate waves on his head bounce.

„The lady at the reception is really nice“, the Irish sunshine stated, and Harry couldn’t tell if he was bragging or just being in a good mood, because it came as no surprise — Niall’s charm did literally open doors for him, one of them being Harry’s this morning.

„Is there anybody in this world who can’t resist you?“ His voice was still a bit rough from sleep, and that’s when Niall’s eyes studied him from head to toe, and well, compared to Niall, Harry looked kind of underdressed, because he basically was, wearing black boxers with his tousled long curls covering his shoulders.

„Nice date last night?“, Niall asked and wiggled his eyebrows, but Harry chuckled, shaking his head, and oh shit, his neck was hurting bad, probably a pulled muscle during night.

„It was… eventful.“

It was more than that, but Niall didn’t need to know all the details. Especially after Harry had swore to himself to forget a specific little detail, one that made him toss about in bed between 1 and 2 am. _Taken, taken, taken_ echoed the locked up voice from the dark corner of his mind, but Harry ignored it.

Instead, he sat down on the bed and yawned quietly, taking in the sumptuous breakfast and noticed that there was already a croissant missing on one of the two plates. _No control from Mr. Insatiable._

He went straight for the coffee, rubbing his eyes after he took a hearty sip of the much needed caffein. God, his muscles were so sore, especially his legs, feeling like jello. No more hikes, that was for sure.

Going for another sip, Harry almost spilled his coffee when Niall let himself fall down onto the bed, the mattress shaking as if it was filled with water, but he didn’t comment on it. Who could be mad at Niall?

„Thanks for the breakfast“, Harry said instead, raising his cup.

„It’s nothing. Plus, it definitely tastes better with good company.“ Niall stuffed his face with crispy bacon, making Harry smile.

And so they ate together, and Niall was right, because the croissant did taste more buttery than usual, and the scrambled eggs had the perfect consistency while Harry listened to his favourite ball of energy. He swooned over the breathtaking sunset he had captured yesterday, showing over 20 pictures on his phone, before he got distracted by a small bird that chirped on Harry’s balcony, reminding Niall of his childhood and how he had once saved a baby swallow from a cat.

„Now that I think of it, I should probably get one of those tattoos as well“, Niall nodded to the inked birds on Harry’s chest.

„Immortalizing every animal I’ve ever rescued.“ His laugh was boyish and playful, causing Harry to title his head. „Have there been many?“ The question made Niall smirk.

„Every inch of my body would be covered in ink.“

Wow. It was official — the world definitely needed more good-hearted people like Niall.

After the tray was empty and licked clean, Harry felt better. He felt more awake and ready for the day, even though he had no idea how to spend it. Maybe a leisurely stroll along the beach and a visit to the art museum would be a good choice, combined with a short visit at one of the many souvenir shops to get something for Gemma.

She always had this crush on Hawaii, but hadn’t been there yet. Therefore, it made Harry feel a little guilty that he lived his sister’s dream while she was in London, although Gemma had assured him many many times that it was okay. One day — and that was a promise — they’d visit this beautiful island together.

Niall then stood up and stretched his body, while Harry leaned against the headboard of his bed, satisfied and lazy, looking at the man with the fancy outfit.

„Who are you meeting?“, Harry wondered and met Niall’s puzzled gaze.

„I mean, you look all scrubbed and dressed. Seems like you’re up to something“, he pointed out. The mischievous spark in those blue eyes gave away that Niall was indeed up to something.

„I appreciate the compliment mate. My butler picked the outfit. He did a great choice, didn’t he?“, Niall spun around to present his attire with great pride, but Harry just stared into his face.

„You have a… butler?“

„In my imagination, yes.“

Niall laughed, and it wasn’t just a noise coming from his mouth. The laugh was in his eyes, in his crinkles, in the room. It chased the few clouds in the sky away, and the sun — in grateful return — bathed him in glowing light, making the cornflowers in his eyes bloom.

And even though it was beautiful, Harry thought that David’s laugh was even more beautiful. Because it didn’t just warm his skin, but Harry’s heart as well.

Taking a handful of dynamic steps, Niall placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, grinning as if he had won the lottery.

„Well, I’m all dressed up for you, my friend. Today’s your lucky day, because you’ll spend it with me.“ Now he talked as if Harry was the one who actually won the lottery.

„You and me? Spending the day?“

Niall frowned. „Unless you have any other plans?“, he checked, and Harry shook his head, bringing back that blinding smile on Niall’s sunburnt face.

„Alright, perfect! Get ready for your best day ever!“

Before Harry knew it, he was pushed off his bed and towards the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder to spot the Irish man laying down on the mattress with the remote control in one hand. Their eyes met.

„Come on, chop-chop“, Niall hummed and made a waving hand gesture, causing Harry to shake his head fondly before entering the bathroom.

He took a long, hot shower, because those could do miracles. Washing away the sweat from last night as well as anything else Harry wanted to get rid of, feeling it all glide down his body. He sighed. This was a fresh start.

__

It had been 9 in the morning when they both left the hotel. (Harry remembered, because he’d checked his phone after he climbed into Niall’s car, which oddly enough was the same brand and model like David’s, with even the same unique smell inside, but Harry told himself that it was either a coincidence or simply his imagination.) Now, it was 1 in the afternoon, and Harry’s feet hurt.

Not because they went for a hike, or visited the beach, or went for another golf adventure.

No.

His feet were burning because of walking up and down a four-story shopping complex known as _Ala Moana Center_.

There were more than 350 shops, and Harry was sure that they’ve visited over half of them. 

Niall — on the other hand — seemed perfectly fine, sipping his iced coffee as they sat on a bench, surrounded by first-class boutiques and a long koi pond in-between.

The place was buzzing, with both locals and tourists filling the open-air mall, and Harry was grateful for the fresh air, even though the humidity turned the area into a big sauna.

He looked at the five shopping bags by their feet, all belonging to Niall, and most of them filled with women’s clothes and accessories.

When Harry asked for whom they were for, Niall said _for a friend_ , but somehow, he didn’t believe him. It was at a Louis Vuitton store that Harry realized that Niall had fallen head over heels in love with this _friend_.

He constantly changed his decisions, picking a black handbag in one second, just to get the red one in the next. („Black is a classic, right?“, „But red is her favourite color“, „Maybe I should stick with the black one“, „No, wait. I’ll get the red bag. It will match her red lipstick. You know, she has a drawer full of red lipstick, and every time I see her, I think that red was made for her. It’s her color“) And after Harry listened to the man’s heartwarming rave that lasted for the next three shops, they decided to take a little break. Or to be more accurate, Harry had begged the tireless shopping king for one.

Sitting down felt like salvation. And enjoying an iced drink wasn’t bad either.

„Once you caught your breath, I wanna go there“, Niall nodded to a Victoria’s Secret store, but then he froze.

„Or is it too much?“

Harry pursed his lips as he thought about it. _And five bags filled with items worth over 2,000$ wasn’t considered ‚much‘?_

„I don’t know. How close are you guys? I think you’re fine as long as you don’t buy her any lingerie.“

„We’re pretty close, I know her since my childhood.“

And there was this familiar sparkle in Niall’s eyes again, and Harry just smiled. He could tell how much she meant to him, how happy she made Niall, and while Harry took another sip of his mango iced tea, he wondered if she felt the same.

„I see. But, Niall?“

„Hm?“

„I know I’m basically a stranger to you, but after spending a shopping marathon with you…“, Harry started, getting a strict look from Niall.

„Which isn’t done yet“, he pointed out with a devious, yet friendly smirk — a combination only Niall seemed to be capable of. Harry grimaced, but mainly to make the other chuckle.

„Right. Anyway. I saw your expression whenever you talked about her, and I wonder… is there a chance that she’s _more_ than just a friend?“, Harry asked. The question, however, seemed to not come as a surprise, because Niall didn’t show much of a reaction, his quietness a silent agreement in some way.

He swayed the coffee inside his cup and rand a hand through his hair.

„It’s obvious, isn’t it? All of my friends noticed“, Niall laughed softly before he cleared his throat. „Well, except of her.“ _Oh._

Harry offered him a sympathic smile as he moved closer, chewing on his lower lip. He knew how Niall felt, even though they didn’t share the same story, Harry could tell how much he wanted her, how much his heart ached for his childhood friend, while she was oblivious to his unconditional love.

„I’m sorry to hear that.“ The atmosphere became noticeably heavier, and it wasn’t humidity’s fault. So, Harry hesitated when he parted his lips, but he knew he needed to ask this.

„Do you think she’ll fall in love with you by buying her nice things?“

He wasn’t blaming Niall, or judging him. Harry just wanted to be honest with the man, which was being understood , because Niall slowly nodded.

„I know, mate. I know“, he sighed. „I know I can’t buy her, and it isn’t my intention at all. I just… want to make her happy. She had a tough time recently.“

Now it was Harry who nodded, though he had no idea _how_ tough she had it, or _how_ heartbroken Niall was. And he didn’t need to know at all. It wasn’t his place to try and understand a lifetime’s story of two people; or to tell Niall what to do. But Harry could help him doing what felt right to Niall, and if that meant to buy most of the stores, then so be it.

They both let the words of their intimate conversation sink in, until they faded away among the chaotic, bubbly chit-chat that filled the heated air. After all, Niall was just human. He had this sunny aura that could turn your bad day into a good one, but it didn’t mean that it worked for Niall’s bad days as well.

„Thanks, mate.“ The corners of Harry’s mouth curled up into a crooked smile when Niall bumped his shoulder lightly, and after sharing a look, they clanked their cups, as if to cheer to the gods above who never managed to get their jobs right.

And so, their little shopping trip continued.

Niall had a hard time picking stuff at Victoria’s Secret, or maybe he was just pretending to not know what she liked. A worker eventually noticed his struggle and came to help, and while they were busy discussing the new collection, Harry strolled around. He let his gaze wander, fingertips brushing the fine material here and there, before he came to a halt, staring at a lace hipster thong. It was a pastel pink, maybe a touch of apricot. Harry grabbed the tag. Ah, _Purest Pink_ was the color.

He took it into his hands and just admired it. After all, Harry could be someone with a girlfriend who was just looking for a nice, sexy present. And yet, despite feeling safe with the cover up story in the back of his head, his heart was racing. So so fast.

There was something about the floral lace and the little ribbon at the front that made Harry’s cheeks and whole body heat up. And the longer he held the thong in his hands, the more Harry wanted to buy it. So he did. He just did it.

Without thinking twice, Harry went straight to the checkout while Niall was still busy, praying that another worker would come to serve him.

 _Thank god_ , he thought when a new face appeared, politely declining the bag he was offered. Harry just wanted to make the thong disappear, so he quickly put it into his backpack before Niall would return. And just as he zipped it up, his Irish companion stepped next to him with his arms full of items. Harry smiled nervously.

„Got everything?“

„Yup. A few pajamas and sports bras. Oh, and a pair of velvet shorts. I think she will love these“, Niall chattered, not suspecting anything, which made Harry relax.

After that — and with now six shopping bags in total (plus a hidden thong in Harry’s backpack) — they used the lift to get to the fourth floor, where Niall headed straight to a Gucci store.

Seriously, what kind of job did Niall have? Or maybe his parents were rich as well, who knew. Besides, Harry wouldn’t risk sounding rude by asking him now. No, he’d save it for another time.

The store was pretty empty. They shared the space with another customer and three workers, one of them being the doorkeeper, and yet, there was a heavy mist of cologne and perfume lingering in the air, giving the impression of a hundred customers filling the store.

Harry avoided breathing through his nose and focused on his phone while Niall talked to one of the uniformed men. He was just reading Gemma’s text from last night when he heard his name.

„Harry!“, Niall said and made a hand move, gesturing for him to come.

„Look, he has the same tattoo“, he hummed happily once Harry arrived, pointing to the worker’s hand that revealed an inked bird on the back. It wasn’t a swallow, but Harry didn’t comment on that and just nodded.

„Yeah“, he agreed with a small smile, his eyes darting between the two men as he felt a little lost. There was a weird silence, forcing Harry to awkwardly nod his greetings to the worker, while Niall seemed to be perfectly happy, wearing his brightest grin.

„My mate Harry here has a bunch of tattoos. Really impressive pieces. Oh, this is Mateo by the way“, Niall interrupted himself, and Harry nodded again.

„Mateo’s parents are from Scotland, and he moved to Hawaii one year…?“, he looked at Mateo with slightly squeezed eyes, not sure of the correct information anymore, but the man chuckled warmly.

„One and a half year ago, yes.“

Again, a weird silence took over, because Harry had no idea why all of this was happening, why all eyes were on him.

„Alright! I think I’m gonna try on these pants“, Niall then announced, and that’s when Harry noticed the beige garment resting on his arm. Before he could say anything or react, Niall was already walking away, glancing over his shoulder.

„Be right back!“

_Great_. Harry bit his lip, shifting a little from side to side to create slowly but surely a distance to the worker, but he stopped when Mateo suddenly talked to him.

„So, Harry…?“, he asked, and it felt wrong hearing this stranger say his name, as if he was using another language that made his name sound so foreign, causing Harry to draw his eyebrows together in concentration and also confusion. He faced the man.

„Yeah?“

„You’re from London I’ve heard. I used to live there for a few months actually. Wonderful city.“

Harry frowned. „But not wonderful enough to stay?“, he asked to make some sort of conversation. It was the first thing that came to his mind really, and it apparently elicited a chuckle from Mateo.

Harry took a closer look.

He was probably around his age, in either his end twenties or early thirties, a tall fit body wrapped in a black suit and a white shirt, his posture flawless, with an incredible long neck that made Harry believe he was a professional dancer. His dark chocolate hair — almost black — had the perfect length, short, but long enough to be styled in many different ways. Right now, Mateo had tamed the soft curls by applying a bit of hair wax to comb it backwards. Slick. Neat. The man was attractive, no doubt.

Just as Harry put his attention back to his face, he was greeted by a pair of vibrant cognac eyes that screamed autumn. _He got caught staring, didn’t he?_

They talked a little bit, though he initiative came mostly from Mateo. Harry just prayed that Niall would be back soon, but for some reason, he didn’t show up, which was making Harry wonder why he needed so long to put on one single pair of trousers. Did he fell and hit his head?

Just when Harry excused himself to check on him did the missing man round the corner, looking unbothered and perfectly fine. No bump or bruises. And no trousers in the end.

Niall and Harry left the store without having bought anything. But nonetheless, Harry was relieved the moment he stepped out of this social trap, not realizing yet that more of these awaited him.

After the third store, it was obvious that Niall had a plan.

The procedure was always the same — first, Niall would make some small talk with his _target_ before he’d call Harry over to introduce them, the atmosphere never getting any less awkward (especially after Harry saw through his sneaky friend), and so, he was left on his own every time, because Niall would disappear into one of the changing rooms, taking his time. Well, at least he had grabbed a few more items than last time to make it less suspicious, but Harry already knew anyways.

Knew that Mateo, Josh and Eaton weren’t all young, good-looking and males by coincidence.

Obviously, Niall was trying to set him up. But there was one thing Harry didn’t know, that didn’t make sense to him, and that was the big _HOW_ circling in his mind whenever he talked to one of these strangers.

How did Niall know that he was gay? (Leaving aside the reason why he decided to play Cupid for Harry).

How?

Harry had never told him. Not even Liam, his best friend, knew that he was gay. David was the only one who knew it despite his own family. So naturally, Harry recalled all the previous conversations and encounters he had with Niall, trying to remember if the word _gay_ had ever slipped out of his mouth.

Maybe that one time they drank whisky at the hotel bar? Right before he met David for dinner? No, Harry had just two sips in form of two drinks, but he wasn’t drunk, he remembered every word that was spoken between them.

How?

The uncertainty ignited a little ball of panic in the pit of Harry’s stomach. It caused him to zone out when he talked to Niall’s fourth candidate, Ricky, a barista of the vintage looking coffee shop Niall insisted to visit.

„S-Sorry?“, Harry asked when he noticed that Ricky waited for an answer. The man frowned, clearly noticing Harry’s disinterest, so thankfully, he waved it off.

„Not important. Anyway, I have to get back to work. Have a lovely day.“ Harry smiled.

„Thanks, you too.“ P _raise the lord, finally someone who showed mercy._

He waited until Ricky went through a door to get to the storage room, to either continue working — like he said — or to hide away from Harry, but to be honest, he didn’t care. All Harry wanted was to get out of this cozy little place that smelled of rich coffee, sweet vanilla and bitter uncomfortableness.

However, there was a silver lining on the horizon when Niall came out of the restrooms.

Harry watched as he made his way across the café, apologizing to everyone who had to step aside due to his barricade of shopping bags; while Harry stood by the entrance like a lost puppy with his two paper bags. It was shortly after 2 pm when Niall — who smelled of fruity soap — reached him.

„What you got me?“, he asked curiously, and Harry shrugged.

„A blueberry muffin.“

Right before Niall had rushed towards the restrooms, he asked Harry to get him a little something to eat. But as the Irish man passed the counter, Harry was sure that he said something to Ricky real quick. And whatever it was, it made the barista set his eyes on Harry; a moment went by, maybe two; seconds that were needed to come to a decision. He was the one approaching Harry by asking what his name and order was.

„Excellent choice.“ Niall went ahead and looked at Harry.

„Ready to go, you heartthrob?“ He cringed at the nickname as he followed Niall outside, his long legs allowing him to catch the other up with a few lazy steps.

„Niall, what are you doing?“ He had to know what this circus was all about.

„Well, there’s one last store I’d like to visit. And then you wanted to stop by a souvenir shop, right?“

That was not the answer Harry wanted to hear, so he tried again.

„No, that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about all these guys you introduced me to.“

Niall’s head suddenly spun to his side to face Harry, and it was a miracle he didn’t snap his neck. There was pure joy mixed with excitement staring back at Harry, reminding him of a child’s shining eyes that went to the candy store for the very first time, blinded by all the strong-colored rainbow bonbons and gigantic lollipops, the sweet scent of temptation and sugar soothing the air. Although, there wasn’t much of a difference between Harry’s metaphor and reality.

Niall nudged his shoulder playfully.

„Did you like one of them? Got any numbers? Personally, I think Mateo was—.“

„God, no, Niall“, Harry quickly said and shook his head, at which Niall’s smile faltered. Harry sighed, grabbing his shoulder to bring them both to a halt.

„Seriously, why are you doing this? Because… well. I’ve never told you. That I’m, that I’m gay“, Harry whispered, not wanting for any of the people who passed them to catch a word.But Niall seemed confused, blinking his eyes a few times before he answered. Then, a small melodic chuckle escaped his lips.

„Yes, you did. You told me.“

Harry frowned deeply.

„No, I didn’t.“

Niall turned his head away, so that Harry was looking at his thoughtful profile, feeling the panic rise again. _Tick-tock, tick-tock._ Time was moving way too slow.

„I can tell a lot about a guy by simply looking“, he explained at last, and Niall’s voice sounded so calm, so unbothered, that Harry felt like the biggest fool for the panic he had created for himself. But still, it was utterly weird and confusing, all of it. Just everything.

Having good insights into human nature was Niall’s final answer? Maybe that was true. But he wasn’t the only one. Because by looking at Niall, Harry could tell that there was more. Something that was still hidden behind a heavy red curtain.

Even the sunny glow and the crystal blue eyes couldn’t blind Harry anymore.

Niall kept something from him, and he was determined to find out what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> A little side note and reassurance: The name 'David' won't stay forever. At some point, it will become Louis. ;-)


	8. VII

The souvenir shop’s shelves were filled with miscellaneous odds and ends; every corner stuffed with either colorful bracelets or small wooden surfboards the size of a kid’s hand; and while all these little gifts and mementos were drowning this place, Harry figured it represented his current emotional world quite well.

Because just like this shop, his head was littered with all kinds of things. Mostly theories regarding Niall.

They made no sense though, like the footwear of the stranger standing next to him who had combined sandals and socks. Why would one wear open shoes when they didn’t want to expose their feet? And why would one try to hook up a person they didn’t really know, with people they knew even less about?

Just then, as Harry held a golden keychain in his hand to inspect the quality, a memory struck him — Niall _knew_ that Harry was meeting someone.

Yesterday, when they ate breakfast together at the café down the street, Niall had asked him about a date. And didn’t Harry reply with ‚ _Kind of_ ‘? And just earlier, the Irish man with the knowing look in his trustworthy blue eyes had made an inquiry, ‚Nice _date?_ ‘, he asked. So Niall knew.

He knew that there was already someone Harry spent time with.

Then why? Why was Niall so desperate to change that? To replace David with another guy?

Harry ended up being even more confused. His head was spinning, while Niall seemed so unbothered and pleased as he strolled through the cluttered shop. For the first time ever, Harry questioned the sun’s son true motives. Had he been fed lies with a golden spoon?

„You got me something as well?“

Harry looked into Niall’s smirk once they left, both of them holding a small bag in their hands. He just shrugged, though he did actually buy a souvenir for Niall, it was somewhere among the many gifts for Gemma and Liam. Oh, and for David too.

„Maybe. If you tell the truth, you’ll get a reward.“

The bright blue sky above their heads was clear and warm, while Niall’s eyes seemed to darken a little. His features, however, stayed friendly, and the corners of his mouth kept curled into a happy smile.

„Harry, Harry, Harry…“, Niall hummed in a voice that resembled a parent, a bit of a mocking tone in it as well, and Harry was sure that Niall would pat his back if his hands weren’t busy holding a bunch of shopping bags.

„I’m the good guy here. There’s no reason for any distrust, mate. Why that frown?“

He bent down to blow into Harry’s face, as if to smooth that said frown, but it made him screw his eyes shut in surprise, his frown only deepening when the sudden breath that smelled of coffee and mint hit his face. Harry glared at him playfully. Maybe it did blow a few doubts away, because once again — who could be mad at Niall?

Though Harry wasn’t really mad in the first place, he just felt left out.

It reminded him of school, of the many dumb rumors that did the rounds every week.

Most of them weren’t true, obviously, they were just created for drama’s purposes. So naturally, everyone seemed excited whenever a new one was put out into the crowded hallways and classrooms. The rumors spread like wildfire, which wasn’t unusual for a school filled with over 500 nosy students.

One time, it was about Harry, and he hated the secret whispers behind his back, the looks some of his classmates gave him when he passed them, or the evil smirks that surrounded him like a trap.

Harry hated that the world knew something that he didn’t, that everyone used his name to escape from their boring everyday life, from the dull math lessons and the teachers’ endless lectures. They were stupid little kids, but after all those years, secretiveness remained as something Harry still despised.

Needles to say that was the reason he wasn’t fond of paparazzis either.

But David had managed to wrap him round his little finger. For David’s sake, Harry pretended to be a naive boy again who rather endured the hated secrecy than confronting it.

However, Niall — despise his heartwarming laugh and soothing aura — wouldn’t be another exception.

„Because you’re hiding something“, Harry said, deciding to be straightforward, but Niall’s smile still didn’t crumble. He laughed instead, one of his infamous roaring laughters that swallowed up any chatter inside the huge shopping center, flooding the place with a wave of charm. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

„The only thing that’s hidden is the souvenir for you inside my bag.“ Niall pressed the lift’s button, giving Harry a side glance.

„And the lingerie in your backpack.“

Immediately, Harry’s cheeks caught fire. He blushed, the back of his neck burning like the rest of his body, and he damned Hawaii’s high temperature and Niall’s loose tongue.

So he saw it.

„I… it’s—“, he stuttered, but his brain wasn’t able to find the right words.

Besides, the lift announced its arrival with a mechanic peep, doors opening and revealing a small group of people they had to join on their ride down.

It was cramped, and Harry felt so exposed in this tiny space. He felt like his backpack’s material was transparent, everyone being able to see the lace thong he had bought, whispers behind his back causing his heart rate to go up. Harry lowered his head to avoid any eye-contact, praying that the lift would speed up.

„Hey!“, Niall called when Harry practically stormed out the minute the lift’s doors glided open again, even though it wasn’t the right floor. Harry just needed to get out, he’d rather take the stairs down than sharing that lift with a bunch of strangers.

„Harry, please! Come on, I didn’t judge you or anything.“

Niall’s hand found Harry’s shoulder, and the touch made him turn around, too abruptly, because he stumbled a little. Then, Niall’s expression changed. He looked concerned, and that’s when Harry knew that his panic must be written all over his face. _Deeps breaths_. He needed to take deep breaths.

„I don’t judge people who buy lingerie for their sisters“, Niall suddenly said, and it made Harry frown.

How did he know about Gemma? Another question mark popped up in his head, but the longer he stared into the man’s mischievous eyes, the clearer Harry saw the purpose behind them. And when Niall winked at last, it was confirmed, and the question mark faded.

His little plan worked as Harry relaxed again, playing alone by swallowing the pill Niall offered him, the only lie he gladly accepted, even though they both knew very well that the lace underwear was meant for Harry, and not a potential sister.

They smiled at each other, Harry nodded, and the air was safe to breath again. Somehow, no more words were needed to discuss the matter, because Niall already headed to the stairs with his arm wrapped around Harry’s shoulders, and he didn’t care about the shopping bags grazing his arm, or the secret in his backpack that wasn’t a secret anymore. No.

The only thing Harry cared about was to see David again.

Niall was good company, despite his adorable quirks and strange dedication to find the perfect match for Harry. He was loud and wild, a hurricane raging in a sunflower field, swirling warm summer air with flowers, but never a butterfly. Niall would never harm anyone, and so Harry believed him when he said he was the good guy here. Because Niall was.

So that being settled — who was the bad guy in this story then?

Harry washed that question down with another iced drink he got once they hit the streets again.

The heat was unbearable by now, the sun burning, and the wind refusing any refreshment. Every palm tree and bush surrounding them stayed quiet, not a single leaf moving, and Harry drank half of his iced black tea as he walked back to the car with Niall.

Luckily, the air conditioner was working properly, so Harry didn’t have to melt like butter in his seat, though the leather stuck to his heated skin, but that was the least of his worries.

With the radio blasting out _Get High By The Beach_ and the airflow tousling his chestnut curls, Harry gave himself over to this game in which he was just a pawn. Let fate take its cruel little course in this beautiful paradise, because temptation had never been this ocean deep.

__

After returning back to the hotel, it was 3 pm, and Harry’s feet felt like he didn’t just climbed the _Stairway to Heaven_ all over again, but the _Stairway to Space_. How many miles did he walk in that shopping center? 

He collapsed on his bed, backpack and souvenirs laying somewhere close by the door, abandoned, as his exhausted body appreciated the soft mattress. Closing his eyes, Harry focused on his breathing, not wanting to ruin this peaceful moment by thinking of anything else. So he dozed for a while, smiling into the pillow when he noticed the soft sound of the waves in the distance, a lazy breeze reaching his skin.

Harry had no idea when David would show up again.

Was he out of town for his so-called ‚business‘? He seemed wealthy, considering the fancy diner he invited Harry to and the car he was driving. Maybe a CEO? Or a financial adviser? (Niall would definitely need one for spending half his fortune in a matter of hours).

Harry’s smile grew bigger when he imagined David in a suit. He’d wear a black one, classic, with a crisp white shirt underneath and… no, wait. How about a black shirt instead? It would definitely make his blazing blue eyes stand out, two diamonds flashing in the darkness.

Harry sighed as he sat up, realizing he would never get the opportunity to see David in a suit. No business meetings he’d accompany him to, no birthday parties, and no weddings. He sighed again, standing up. In order to distract himself from his reality, Harry made his way to his backpack to grab the thong.

It was as light as a feather, so delicate and pretty, Harry couldn’t stop tracing the floral lace with his fingers. And as he stood there, seemingly hypnotized by that little piece of fabric, he slowly understood why he felt that attraction to it.

She wore something similar, didn’t she?

Harry remembered, even though it was about five or six years ago. He remembered, his first ever orgasm he’d experienced with a woman.

Though, it didn’t happen when he lost his virginity at the age of 16. That moment that was supposed to be special, turned out to be anything but special to Harry.

Back then, he was known as the heartthrob at his school, who could stir every girls’ blood with a single glance. However, Harry never really understood why people liked him, or considered him attractive. Until one day — shortly before the end of their lunch break —Harry accidentally eavesdropped a conversation of a girl group, all giggling and squeezing into a corner.

They swooned over his beaming smile, how it made his pale green eyes sparkle, dimples framing his full pink lips (especially his heart-shaped upper lip was a hot topic). They even discussed the color of his short curls, and agreed on ‚ _dark chestnut with a hint of copper_ ‘. One of them mentioned his deep voice, which triggered a round of dreamy sighs. But all Harry could do was to frown.

Every time he looked into the mirror, he was facing an average boy who was neither cute orremarkably handsome. Average, yes. That was the perfect word to describe him.

He was doing his homework, got good grades, played football and video games on the weekends. He was an average teenage boy.

There was only one thing that made him different compared to his classmates — and that was his non-existing interest in the female sex.

All those countless love letters inside his locker remained unanswered. They either ended in the trash, or just laid in the back corner of his locker under a thick layer of dust. And if a girl had ever found the courage to confess her love to Harry from face to face, they were always rejected in the most polite way.

So the school years passed, and _Harry the heartthrob_ turned into _Harry the heartbreak_.

His ‚rebranding‘ was something he didn’t care about, just like the fact that he didn’t have a girlfriend, nor sex. However, everything changed after his 16th birthday.

After his friends had mocked him for weeks (they called him lonely Island of Spinster and a pussy), Harry decided to ask his pretty seatmate out on a date. At least she never freaked out in his presence, and all in all, she seemed to be reasonable.

They were in a relationship for over half a year, while the sex was… disillusioning. Harry had imagined his first time to be different, with more emotions and butterflies, more passion, a mind-blowing experience that would leave him breathless and floating in space. But Harry had never been so down on earth after they finished.

In the end, it happened quick and painless, and even the second and third time remained unspectacular. At some point, Claire — that was her name — confronted him in his room.

„Do you think I’m ugly?“, she asked with wet eyes, and Harry blinked in confusion.

„What?“

„Be honest. Am I ugly?“

„What makes you say that?“, he asked back.

Claire’s beauty often attracted envious glances at their school, and on the streets as well. She liked to wear dresses, the ones that hugged her curves perfectly, but preserved her good girl image. When it came to her face, Harry’s mum always compared her to a porcelain doll — round moon-face, big chocolate eyes and a tiny, pouty mouth. Claire was beautiful, no doubt. So therefore, her question, and insecurity, caught him off guard.

„Claire, what makes you say that?“, Harry pushed when she didn’t answer the first time, and he could see that she was hesitating. This was hard for her to do, this whole conversation was stressing her, which only alarmed Harry further.

„Because…“, she started, closing her eyes for a moment before she met Harry’s gaze again.

„Because you’re never getting hard whenever we kiss or touch. I always have to suck you off, and even that’s not working all the time.“

There was a repressive silence weighing heavily on their shoulders. It was so damn quiet that the ticking of the wall clock was literally booming in his ears, every move of the second hand cutting the air between them, and after a moment, Harry managed to turn his head slowly to face the clock when Claire talked again, but her words seemed so far away as his eyes caught the time.

It was Tuesday, 14th June 2009, 2:36 pm when his girlfriend declared his impotence and broke up with him.

After the separation, Harry had two more relationships, the last one over five years ago now. Again, it was his failure in bed that caused the break-ups, and just when Harry was close to seek help from a doctor, the unexpected happened:

During a New Year’s Eve party at his best friend’s house; in one of the many guest bedrooms; Harry experienced his first orgasm with a woman.

It was a one-night-stand that had started with a few drinks and some small talk.

Originally, Harry had planned to leave the party as soon as possible, but when this young woman blocked his way to thrust a glass of champagne into his hand, Harry decided to stay.

Maybe it was her sassy attitude, the fiery red lipstick or the cheeky pixie haircut. Either way, the moment he felt her hand pressing into his crotch just shortly before midnight; while being surrounded by hundreds of drinking and laughing people; Harry’s blood was filled with an overdose of adrenaline.

„Fuck me from behind“, she had breathed on the bed, and her demanding tone made his erection even harder. He swallowed as he watched her getting on all fours, bum facing him and slightly wiggling in anticipation. But when Harry found her entrance with his tip, she flinched away all of a sudden.

„No! Do me from behind“, she whined in frustration, leaving Harry a little confused. He swallowed.

„You want me to…?“

„Yes, I want you to fuck my ass.“

Granted, her direct words threw him off course, and when he still didn’t make a move, the woman glanced over her shoulder.

„Do you need me to write you an invitational letter?“ Her blue eyes sparkled with lust and arrogance, and nothing more was needed for Harry to fulfill her wish.

He gently pushed the lace material of her pink thong aside as he positioned himself again, licking his dry lips before he finally bucked his hips slowly.

The sweetest moans escaped her lips, head sinking while he entered her, pushing deeper and deeper, and the feeling left Harry breathless as well.

Usually, he would close his eyes during sex, but this time was different. This time, he couldn’t stop admiring the woman from behind, thinking that she almost looked like a petite man with her short hair and broad shoulders. And then, the more this random thought turned into a fantasy, the harder Harry got, until he eventually came.

The woman — whose name he didn’t know — disappeared from his life as swift as she came that night. Their encounter only lasted a moment, but it was enough to change Harry forever.

Sometimes, mostly on sleepless nights, Harry would think about her, playing with the thought of trying to find her in order to send her a gigantic bouquet of flowers, like the ones from the movies when the main protagonist attempted to win back the heart of his love, because he fucked up big time.

But Harry’s reason behind the gesture was different. Because thanks to her, Harry found out at the age of 22 that he was gay.

To be fair, the realization didn’t hit him right away after the one-night-stand. Only after an intensive research (which included a few gay pornos) did Harry feel certain about his sexuality.

At first, he was relieved.

Harry recalled all his failed relationships, the guilt he had dealt with, the fear that something was wrong with him. It took a load off his mind, made Harry feel complete again, whole. He wasn’t broken anymore, he hadn’t been in the first place, and all this guilt that used to devour his conscience was no longer a part of him.

But then, a shadow swallowed up the light at the end of the tunnel. A shadow in the shape of a certain man.

_His father._

„Fuck“, Harry hissed and shook his head as if to get rid of the memory. He took a deep breath through his nose and looked into the full-length mirror in front of him, focusing on the here and now.

He was in Hawaii, far away from home, and he wasn’t the same person he used to be a year ago. His father didn’t own him anymore. He was free.

Harry wouldn’t hold back anymore and be himself, and if trying on women’s thongs was a part of that, then that’s how things were. He shouldn’t feel the need to explain himself, he had learnt his lesson today with Niall. No more shame or guilt.

So he stripped down until he was naked, and it felt good, his skin breathing in the heat of his room, every single tattoo making Harry’s smile grew bigger.

His heart was pounding when he pulled the thong up his legs, carefully not to ruin it, because after all, he didn’t know if it would fit. But it did. It fit like a glove. A lace glove in the gorgeous color purest pink.

The soft material was a bit see-through, though Harry didn’t mind. He turned around in pure fascination, admiring the way the lingerie hugged his hips, and for the first time ever, Harry felt beautiful. There was no other word to describe this feeling. _Beautiful._

He could have stood there and stare into the mirror all day long while constantly touching the waistband and the little ribbon, but the sudden knock at the door bursted Harry’s pink bubble.

„O-One second!“, Harry called out.

His heart dropped as he quickly put on his jeans and t-shirt without chancing back into his boxers. Harry was quick to answer the door. It was probably Niall anyways, trying to convince him to either go sky-diving or swimming with the sharks, because he would expect anything from this relentless live wire.

„Oh“, Harry breathed when he stared into a different pair of blue eyes, causing David to raise an eyebrow.

„You sound disappointed. Did you expect someone else?“, he questioned and turned sideways.

„I can leave if you want.“

Harry’s eyes widened and he opened the door properly.

„What? No, sorry. I was just— coming from the bathroom.“ He smiled, but David somehow seemed skeptical, his piercing eyes scanning Harry from head to toe, and for a moment, it felt like he could see right through his clothes. _Shit, was he an open book?_

However, there was a soft smirk decorating those thin lips, and that’s when Harry saw the amusement flashing somewhere between steel and sky blue.

„I’m just joking, lad. I know you can’t resist me“, David hummed as he passed him, fresh cigarette smoke still clinging to his clothes and telling Harry what he did a few minutes ago. But there was also a faint minty note, coming from the gum David chewed. How could such an ordinary thing like chewing on a gum make someone ten times more attractive? David seemed to be the living proof that it was possible.

But Harry rolled his eyes and closed the door.

„Well, I’m not the one who knocked at my door“, he pointed out. David stood by the open balcony when he glanced at Harry, the daylight caught in his smug eyes.

„And I’m not the one who begged me to spent the rest of my stay together.“

_1-0 for the sharp tongue from Doncaster._

„Begged? I can’t recall that it was begging“, Harry said and shrugged, fighting a smile. He sat down on the bed and watched David leaning against the glass door.

„How could you? Drinking a shit ton of—.“

„Okay, okay. You win“, Harry grunted, not wanting to get reminded of his embarrassing behavior again. On the positive side, it was quite good that they’d go parted ways in the end, so David couldn’t tease him with that story every single day. _Always think positive._

The small victory made David nod in self-satisfaction, and it wouldn’t surprise Harry if he’d caught the man patting his own shoulder.

„Did you finish your business?“, Harry asked to change the topic, slowly heaving his tired legs onto the mattress to rest comfortably.

He noticed the clouds in David’s eyes, the hardening features on his face, and to be honest, it didn’t come unexpectedly. Not after David had admitted that he wasn’t here by choice, that whatever he was doing here, it clearly put him in a bad mood.

So, David simply nodded while staring into the distance, not willing to go into any detail, which was fine to Harry.

The only thing that mattered was David. David standing in his room, being here and looking stunning in his blue ripped denim jeans and soft camel sweater, drowning a little in his outfit, which added just the right amount of casualness.

He seemed so tiny, but Harry wouldn’t comment on that. He had a feeling it wouldn’t go well with the lad’s big ego.

„And you?“, David asked, slowly walking towards Harry. „What did you do while I was gone? Taking a few pictures and getting a tattoo?“

Harry titled his head and pursed his lips.

„Nope. I was busy escaping a bunch of men who tried to get my number.“

He hesitated. „And probably into my pants as well“, Harry added, looking up at David innocently who was now towering over him next to the bed. He had both hands buried in his pockets, and Harry wondered if they were clenched into fists.

„Is that so?“, David inquired.

He was definitely a master in hiding his emotions, but Harry was curious what it would take to break his mask.

Obviously, David must feel something for him as well, or otherwise, he wouldn’t have beaten up that guy who was twice his size outside the club.

It wasn’t just an act of justice, no. It was something deeper, something that made David’s eyes catch fire and body tremble in anger, a feeling so strong it cut through any self-control and prudence.

Whatever it was, all it needed was a little push to cut the last obstacle that stood between Harry and David, a push in form of some provoking words.

But there was no fire, no trembling this time. Just a little frown plastered on his neutral face.

„And did one of them invite you to a road trip? To explore the breathtaking beaches and landscape? Eating the most delicious food?“, David asked, and Harry needed a moment to decode his words.

„Wait, are you…? A road trip, now?“

He got a melodic chuckle for an answer, as well as that beaming smile he adored so much.

„Unless you’ve got better plans with someone else?“

The teasing undertone wasn’t hard to miss, but Harry decided to not test his luck today, standing up and starting to pack his stuff.

„Nothing I could cancel“, he replied happily. It didn’t take long for him to fill his backpack with all the essentials he needed, the Victoria’s Secret price tag somewhere buried under some sunscreen and two freshly filled water bottles.

And then, David’s hand was gently resting on the small of Harry’s back as they made their way down, passing the lobby with the minty arm chairs and the noble hotel bar where it all started, stepping outside into the sticky heat.

David wore his sun-glasses, while Harry used a wide brim fedora to block out the blinding sun, and as he caught a glance of their reflection in one of the cars they passed, Harry couldn’t help but think how good they looked as a couple. The kind of _good_ that gave you the power to take over the world. Or New York’s catwalks at least.

„This way“, David suddenly said when Harry was walking straight ahead, making him turn left, away from all the black cars, and instead, heading to a baby blue vintage convertible.

Harry watched with furrowed eyebrows as David pulled out some keys to unlock the door.

„That’s not your car“, Harry stated, confused.

„Good deduction skills, Sherlock“, David teased him with that infamous smirk, but Harry didn’t mind. Especially when the other man was opening the passengers door for him.

„Did you crash your other car?“

„Oi, watch your tongue.“

The question caused David’s hand to land a playful, yet firm smack on Harry’s bum, making him squeak in surprise under his breath, and Harry blushed a little when David chuckled. Yeah, that noise came out definitely too high. Thank god no one else heard that.

„I’m an excellent driver in case you haven’t noticed yet. And I would like a bit more enthusiasm when I take you to a road trip in such a nice car.“

David was right, the car was definitely an eye-catcher. Harry leaned back into the tan Speedster-style seats, while his feet were resting on the caramel carpet, smiling at David when he started the engine.

„This is Hawaii. It would be a shame to not feel the breeze and smell the ocean while driving. Don’t you think?“, David chatted as he hit the road, and all Harry could do was to agree, because he was right. It would be a shame to not having the breeze run through David’s fluffy cinnamon hair and the ocean match his eyes.

__

The road trip was the perfect combination of everything Harry enjoyed.

A lush green scenery, with flowers so vibrant and rich, colorful splashes as far as the eye can see; with the most beautiful beaches peeking through dense trees, revealing their stunning view and the wide wide ocean whose crystal turquoise water was kissing the sun; and everything was glowing — the sky, the sand, the surfboards; and the radio’s music made the sweet stuffy air vibrate, along their soft laughter, or the clicking of Harry’s camera here and there, taking pictures of the untouched nature and dreamy beaches when he wasn’t busy stuffing his face with juicy burgers or fried malasadas from all the food trucks they passed on the highway; sugar coated fingers, butterflies dancing, and a bronze hand resting on his thigh.

Harry was in paradise.

Not because of Hawaii, but because of David by his side, who spared no effort or costs to bring heaven down to earth for him. Every moment was perfect, every second worth a life-time, and Harry would have sold his soul to the devil to make this trip never stop.

They went up to the east coast first, heading to Kailua, and made a few stops to visit the food trucks that lined the scenic highway. After visiting Kailua and Lanikai beach (both were too enchanting to be real), they drove up the east coast towards the North Shore while David constantly tried to persuade Harry to do another hike, as countless signs — that surrounded them like tress — promoted those, but Harry somehow managed to distract David, mostly by pretending to take pictures of him, which ended up in a heated argument that was basically fake and fulfilling the purpose to make Harry piss his pants from laughing too hard at David’s overdramatic curse vocabulary.

Once Harry had calmed down, they left a sleepy little tourist town in Haleiwa to head back south, going west to admire some deserted beaches, before stopping at a café to share a huge portion of garlic fries.

And now, after two and a half hours, with the sun hanging low and ready to end the day, they eventually drove back to their hotel.

Or so, Harry thought.

Because David didn’t follow the right direction, making Harry frown and look up from his camera. Their eyes met in the golden sun light, and David just snickered, quietly, gently.

He refused to share his plan, and maybe that would be the moment for Harry to worry that David could be a serial killer and taking him somewhere quite to slit his throat.

But they ended up at Waikiki beach, and before Harry knew it, he was stepping inside a submarine. A hi-tech passenger submarine that could hold 64 people and descended 100 feet underwater.

Harry was overwhelmed. Speechless. He looked around in pure bewilderment, taking a seat while wearing the largest smile ever. He had no idea how long the dive lasted, because everything just fascinated him, the exotic fishes passing his viewport, the sunken shipwrecks and giant turtles — it all took his breath away.

It was as if they were in a different world. A world where magic existed, where fairytales took place, and where secrets remained undiscovered in the dark depths of the ocean. Thrilling, mysterious, surreal — Harry’s heart pounded in admiration for the wonders of the world. And for David as well.

He was thoroughly the perfect gentleman today. Taking Harry’s hand once they left the submarine to help him get on the boat that took them back to the beach. Opening the car door for him, as well as a bottle of champagne he found in the minibar of his hotel room.

„Fuck!“, David laughed when the cork flew across the room after he popped it, hitting the ceiling and landing on the ground after a few bounces, and Harry clapped his hands.

„What a show. Couldn’t have done it better myself“, he commented as he rolled onto his back, looking at David who stood a few feet away from the bed. Harry giggled.

„You’re standing upside down.“

David scoffed, fondly, taking a sip of from the bottle.

„How old are you? Seven?“

„Eight“, Harry replied with a smirk. He couldn’t help, all those happiness hormones that flooded his veins brought up his childish side, but then again, life was too short to give a fuck. And David seemed to not mind at all judging by his cheerful mood.

It was dark outside by now, and probably late. However, that was no reason to close his eyes and wait for the next day to come. They still had a few hours left to savor every second of this day and turn it into something special. Drinking champagne while looking at all the photos Harry took seemed like a brilliant idea.

Besides, Harry was still high from all the things he had witnessed today, the tiring shopping marathon long forgotten. He felt alive, and truly realized the difference between existing and living. Harry sighed, and leaned his head against David, who was laying next to him.

„Tired?“, he asked, but Harry shook his head, eyes closed.

„No. I’m just trying to remember the ocean.“

„And? Can you see it?“

Harry smiled as he slowly opened his eyes again, staring right into David’s. His heart skipped a beat.

„Yes.“

Usually, David would make a cheeky remark, something to tease Harry, but his lips remained sealed, and it was as if he didn’t want to ruin this moment. Whatever it was that filled the room, it made Harry’s skin catch fire and his palms sweat, cheeks tingling in the warm evening breeze that blew past the light curtains — he wished he could save this moment in a jar.

„Here.“ David offered him the champagne, and Harry took a sip, licking his lips afterwards. It tasted sweet, probably sweeter on David’s lips. Ha. The alcohol went already to his head. Or maybe his heart first?

„Sorry about your hat again. I’ll buy you a new one“, David said as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing a sketchbook of tattoos on his right lower arm. Harry spotted a compass and traced the outlines with his finger, imagining it pointed to home, wherever that was.

„It’s okay. I have way too many hats anyways. Maybe it’s good that I’ve got one less.“

Harry smiled when he remembered loosing his favourite black fedora during their ride on the highway, the sudden wind surprised both of them, but they used to laugh it off, and even now, Harry still felt no regret. Nothing could spoil his high spirits. Nothing.

„Thank you“, he breathed, feeling an arm resting around his shoulders.

„You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.“ David seemed to hesitate, and Harry could sense that the man wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept it locked away, swallowing down the unspoken words. Seconds turned into minutes, and the champagne bottle was half empty when it was put on the floor.

„Liked it? I love it“, Harry corrected. He grabbed David by his arms as he rolled them both over, hovering over the older lad with his long wavy hair framing his face. David slapped it softly away, resembling a cat as he did it, and Harry’s smirk seemed to tell David what he was thinking, because a pair of hands was suddenly grabbing Harry’s waist, tickling him.

„No, wait! Stop!“

They wiggled around between the sheets, and Harry was glad that the bottle was far away from them. Otherwise, it would have ended in a mess.

„Beg me to stop. Come on, I know you can do it“, David insisted while Harry was laughing into the pillow, somehow trying to muffle his voice, because he was afraid of any complains from their neighbors. But David, that sneaky evil bastard, didn’t seem to care, increasing his torture.

Just when Harry was about to give in, a phone rang, and David stopped.

Instantly, his hands were pulled away from Harry, resting on his thighs while staring into the other’s eyes, and it took him a moment to realize that for once, it wasn’t David’s phone that was ringing, but Harry’s.

„E-Excuse me“, he mumbled when he stood up, pulling out the device and checking the display, fixing his messy hair.

It was Liam.

Without wasting any time, Harry picked up.

„Hey.“

There was a rustling, followed by heavy breathing, which made Harry sober up.

„Liam?“, he asked, and flinched when he suddenly heard his friend’s roaring voice echoing in his ear.

„Harry! Hey, Harry! Where are you?“

He frowned. Was Liam outside and running? It seemed like as if wind was the cause of the rustling noises, and running would explain why Liam was so out of breath.

„I’m… in my hotel room.“

„Did you talk with Gemma? Oh, shit. There’s a full moon! Can you see it? I can still see it.“

Harry’s frown only deepened, and he briefly glanced at David before he stepped away, lowering his voice. What the hell was going on?

„Liam, what’s wrong? Did you drink?“

He laughed, and Harry swore he could hear his friend’s lungs squeak. Slowly but surely, Harry was starting to freak out a little, because something was going on with Liam, and he wasn’t there to take care of him in case he needed him.

„No, H. I did not. Although, maybe I should. I really, really should“, Liam panted, and Harry was focusing so hard to figure out where he was. No cars or busses were around, so he must be outside the city. A park maybe?

„They’re not telling you it, but I think you should know“, Liam then said.

„Know what?“

There was a moment of silence, followed by a deep, squeaky breath, and the anticipation pushed Harry more and more towards the edge. So when Liam wasn’t saying anything, Harry was about to urge him again, but then the other finally spoke.

„Your parents got divorced.“


End file.
